Is It A Want, Or A Need?
by Pyro146
Summary: Tony Stark can get anything or anyone that he wants and is therefore only really interested in what he can't have, which is Natasha Romanoff. He is used to challenges, but nothing like the one he faces to claim the prized Russian, including a jealous archer and a life of danger that had always surrounded the assassin. Rated for violence, language and smut.
1. Chapter 1

It did not bother Natasha all that much when her Director informed her that she would be working closely with Tony Stark for a short while, as SHIELD and Stark Industries began to mix together. It was a logical move that ended up being beneficial to both parties, in ways that Natasha did not need to concern herself about. The only part that she even really aware of was the amount of times Tony was able to break through the SHIELD firewalls for the sheer purpose of wreaking havoc. He never stole any information and he never left the door open to alternate hackers, he would only leave some sort of obvious footprint or calling card to let Fury know he had been visiting inside the system.

So actually including him in some of the more technical operations ensured his talents lay in constructive and creative methods rather than destructive or pointless ones. And of course considering that meant he was allowed more power levels for the Iron Man suit and round the clock flight clearance, he was happy to join the team. Even though Natasha was warned about the possibility of being around Tony, she didn't expect to ever run into him, she had been on a run of missions that did not need his involvement . It was only when she was more or less ordered to take a break from active duty that she found herself around him more.

He was helpful in most cases and that was something she could not deny, he had upgraded a few of her weapons and she was appreciative, content with knowing he had fun in levelling up the technology that had previously been SHIELD issued. After a week of seeing him at the base almost every second day she started to notice that she would run into him on a more frequent basis. She assumed it was intentional, though initially she gave him the benefit of the doubt.

As luck would have it, the day before she flew out on a deep cover mission, she thought of something he could help her with and found that he was not even at the base. She checked the flight logs in case he was out in the suit, he may have 24/hour clearance but he was still required to report his flights into SHIELD. When she found them to be clear she knew he would be at the tower, he may have had a billion dollar lifestyle previously but he seemed to have calmed down a little after merging his company with SHIELD. Natasha knew that Pepper was the CEO but she had listened to him and agreed when he proposed they accept Fury's offer.

There were a few people that had complete access to all areas of Tony's tower and Natasha was one of them, as a top agent of SHIELD she had been one of the lucky ones to be accepted by JARVIS. Sometimes it was easy to forget he was merely a computerized program, especially when he greeted her every time she stepped into the lobby elevator and always asked her about the weather. She would always reply with the same thing.

"You know the weather information for the entire globe JARVIS."

And of course his answer never changed.

"Right you are Agent Romanoff, Mr. Stark is in the lab."

She often saw interactions between Tony and JARVIS, she was fully aware that they argued and bantered like good friends, it was comical and saddening at the same time, but a word never left her lips to anyone on the subject. When she reached his lab and let herself in, she could see he was busy near the other wall, welding something that was probably beyond her capability of understanding. She approached him slowly, but kept a suitable distance, not wishing to burn herself with welding scars. Even as she took that precaution, she could see fresh marks along his bare arms that indicated he had burnt himself very recently. She wasn't surprised, he wasn't exactly known for taking safety seriously.

His arc reactor seemed to be glowing brighter than ever, easily seen under a thin muscle shirt that was his only protection against the sparks apart from an actual welding helmet. She waited patiently until he noticed her appearance and quickly looked up, though his face was not visible behind the heavy mask. The torch was extinguished and the flame died before he casually tossed it on the edge of the work bench and tipped back the helmet.

He grinned at her as he took a moment to catch his breath, a slight sheen of sweat glistening across his forehead which became visible as he removed the helmet entirely. She doubted the work had been physically exhausting but he would have been having to concentrate remarkably hard.

"Romanoff!" He exclaimed, moving around the side of the bench and presenting himself fully. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She glanced at his pants and noticed they were a designer brand, not exactly common uniform for a day in the lab.

"Are you supposed to be somewhere official?" She asked him, neglecting to answer his opening question. He followed her eyes to his pants and understood why she had asked.

"Just came back from a fundraiser for the Congo." He explained, taking a rag from the bench and wiping his hands. Natasha was almost certain that they came away dirtier after touching the cloth. A theory that was confirmed as he ran a hand over his forehead and through his hair, leaving a smudge of what she assumed was oil. He was literally the only billionaire she had ever met that was not terrified to get their hands dirty. And she had met a lot of billionaires.

"So why the visit to my humble abode?" He asked her with a dramatic voice, waving a hand at the lab which was not exactly in neat order.

"I had a question about the gun you altered for me." She told him, taking it out of her holster and laying it on the workbench beside the welding torch. "Is there any way that you can make it so it will not fire unless it recognizes me specifically?" She watched the wheels ticking over in his head, already he seemed to be thinking of how to make that work, and evidently also her reasoning behind the request.

"Either you expect to be disarmed, or you are planning to get disarmed." He stroked his neatly trimmed goatee as though it was a show of deduction. Natasha wasn't sure if he was purposely making an appearance of seeming like Sherlock Holmes, but that was who she was reminded of. Before she could even answer he had spun off the subject entirely. "So I was thinking, you and I should take off together. You could say it was a mission, or just tell them it is a much needed holiday and I don't exactly need anybody to sign my permission slip."

"I- what?" She asked, slightly confused as she tried to figure out how serious he was.

"Or," He held up a finger as though a sudden thought had just occurred to him. "We could just mash out this sexual tension right here, right now. It would certainly make working together a whole lot easier." He lowered his eyebrows in a suggestive way.

Normally Natasha would have hit him but she was in somewhat of a good mood, with her excitement in getting back onto field work, so she simply gave him a look that warned him he was barking up the wrong tree. He shrugged but didn't apologize.

"Hey, they all succumb eventually." He reasoned, adding in a wink for good measure.

"I thought you had something going with Pepper." Natasha pointed out, placing her hands on her hips.

"You and everyone else in this world seems to believe that." He sighed in a way that Natasha couldn't tell was genuine or for dramatic flair. "Honestly I take her on one date and the paparazzi assumes there is a marriage around the corner."

"So… she _isn't_ pregnant?" Natasha asked, with a forced tone of confusion. The look on Tony's face was close to terrified as it drained of all color. But when he saw Natasha's lips twitch he realized her purpose was to unsettle him.

"You're evil, you know that right?" He pointed a finger at her as he picked up her gun. Natasha smiled but didn't reply, at least she had managed to get him back on track. "Honestly every time I sleep with girl there are rumours that a baby is on the way. Like Pepper even has time to get pregnant, she's too dam busy for such a thing…"

Natasha rolled her eyes as Tony muttered away under his breath about illogical situations and regrettable times.

"I may have a program that could do what you want." He informed her after studying the gun. "I would have to replace the chip I just put in, but in a couple of days it will be finished."

"I'm leaving tomorrow." She told him. "I'm back on field duty."

"So I won't have you hanging around my lab when I'm at the base?" He asked, unclipping the ammo and setting it aside. He searched through a pile of what seemed like metal scraps and pulled out a tiny pair of tweezers. Natasha watched as he proved how steady his hands could be, removing the tiny chip he had placed inside the gun only a few days before.

"What do you mean 'hanging around', you call me down half a dozen times." She reasoned, her tone giving every suggestion that she was getting defensive. He grinned at her, as long as she was getting animated, it meant he was getting under her skin.

"And you come every time." He pointed out.

"I'm officially ordered to assist you however you need when you are working with any sort of SHIELD property or technology." She told him with a dry tone, paraphrasing what Fury had said to her when the organizations merged together. She realized as soon as she spoke that it was a big mistake, she saw the grin widen and his eyes narrow, the suggestive lowering of his eyebrows returned.

"Oh? Is that a fact. Well, I can think of a few things that I need right now." He seemed very proud that he had gotten her to say all that and she tried not to face-palm, aware of how much dignity she would lose.

"No Stark," She sighed, rubbing her forehead exasperatedly. "Those things are what you _want,_ not what you _need._"

"You sure?" He asked with raised eyebrows as his eyes dropped to take in the view of her in her trademark catsuit. "Because it feels like I _need_ something, pretty damn badly." Her tolerance finally wore out, as it normally did after being in a room with him for so long and she stepped forward to snatch her gun from his hand. She grabbed the ammo from the bench and slammed it back into the gun, glaring at him while completing the action, as if proving a dangerous point.

"I'm leaving." She said, turning to walk from the lab and stopping in surprise as she found him moving swiftly to block her way.

"Alright, forget the mind blowing, unforgettable sex that we could be having right now." He said with a wave of his hand. He plucked the gun away from her and once again removed the ammunition. "If you really need it by tomorrow, then I can probably have it done tonight. The program is half written anyway, I've been working on it in my spare time. The problem being that I don't often get spare time." He flashed her an award winning smile and if Natasha had any less strength of character then she no doubt would have swooned.

She was good at reading men and Tony was no exception to that talent, she understood that he wanted her because he could not have her. She was also aware that there was a good chance of him leaving her alone and probably forgetting her name if she just gave in and slept with him. But there was a battle of wits going on between them and by conceding to his advances, she would lose that battle. That was not something she could allow to happen. No matter how good he looked in designer pants and a muscle shirt that he wore with rugged style.

* * *

**For the record, I've been wanting to do a Tony/Natasha one for awhile but figured there weren't really many people that would bother reading it. But I got a request from ****Sky Fenty, so decided I may as well write one up, hopefully this is enjoyable.**


	2. Blood and Impatience

Tony was familiar with having people watch him as he worked, especially while at SHIELD considering he still didn't appear to be trusted much around there. The lack of trust worked both ways, he was very aware of how many spies and assassins were filtering through the base, if he had any sense at all, he would be watching his back constantly. But he always found it shockingly unsettling when it was Natasha that was overseeing his work.

He could see her in his peripheral vision, leaning against the far wall with her head turned slightly to the side. She had her arms crossed and appeared rather casual, but Tony knew she was anything but relaxed. He knew she would be watching him closely, even though she wasn't looking at him directly, whether consciously or subconsciously, she would be aware of his every move. He noticed she almost always kept her back to a wall, even if she was only going into a room for a short amount of time. The reasoning was simple, it was basic instinct that told her to keep her back guarded so nothing could sneak up on her. Even if she seemed calm, she would always be on edge.

He wondered what it was like to be constantly worried about a possible attack, to have reflexes that made you draw a weapon and shoot before you could discover the rustling in the bush was a stray cat and not a hidden sniper. Then again, he supposed she had been that way for so long that she wouldn't have considered it to be anything other than normal. He clicked his tongue as he viewed the simulations that JARVIS projected in front of him, still typing across the holographic keyboard that was on the cleared workbench in front of him.

"Any progress?" Natasha called from the other side of the lab. Tony dropped his hands and turned to face her fully.

"You only just asked me to do this about, five minutes ago." He turned back to the keyboard and erased some codes, opting for a slightly different approach after a few of the scenarios failed. "Since when are you so impatient?"

"It has been forty-three minutes exactly." She corrected him. "I'm on a deadline here, patience is not something I have an abundance of."

"Oh, I beg to differ." Tony smirked, but continued with his work. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her face him, which was possibly more unsettling that the façade of looking away. "I'm fairly certain you are the most patient person I know. I read one of your reports that said you waited for close to six hours in the same spot, scoping out a target. That must have been boring as hell, did you at least take a magazine?"

There was a silence between them for a few moments which while not exactly an awkward one, definitely had a dangerous feel to it.

"So, you're hacking into my mission reports now?" When Natasha spoke, Tony could hear an icy warning in her voice and some deep seated instinct told him not to push any further. As usual, he didn't listen to any sort of reasoning whether it came from others or even himself.

"Hacking implies there was effort involved." He told her with a grin that she was not matching. "Nice job on the Slovakian case by the way, excellent use of a fire extinguisher." He didn't really expect her to laugh and enjoy the situation as much as he was, but he was a little surprised when she uncrossed her arms and gave him a deadly serious look.

"Stark those reports are labelled confidential for a reason." She sounded calm, but he could tell she was pissed off. "They hold information that pertains to national security! People cannot just go around reading them!"

Tony rolled his eyes and grinded his teeth as he listened to her rant, telling him off as though he was a child that had snuck into his father's porn collection. At least she was talking, she was always so damn quiet, just observing a situation, looking for hidden dangers and threats. She was so different to her partner, one sarcastic snarky archer who talked nearly as much as Tony did. They should have been good friends and yet the two men couldn't really stand each other.

"You need to loosen up Romanoff." He turned back to her and cut her off in the middle of her sentence regarding 'dangers of holding sensitive information'. "Seriously, there is more to life that just working. Especially considering you have a job that literally puts your life on the line every time you step out of your door. Do you ever have any fun? Go to any parties?"

She looked at him for a moment before answering, seeming as though she was thinking over the question. "We can't all be playboy billionaires who attend fundraisers on a daily basis." Again with that eerie calmness that hid some deeper emotions, probably anger, as much as Tony would have liked to think it was lust or sexual desire.

"But you could." Tony argued, taking a step toward her but just the one, so there was still a large gap between them. She raised an eyebrow but said nothing, a sign that he was permitted to continue. For some reason it was at that moment that Tony became very aware of the gun seated in a holster at her left hip. "Come with me to one of my fundraisers. What could possibly go wrong? It would be a win/win for everybody, I would get a tasty piece of arm candy and you get to let your hair down and have fun for once. Figuratively of course, I mean you could wear your hair up if you wanted to. Blow off the mission." The last part was said as an add on, something he thought of a moment before he spoke it. There was no filter between his brain and mouth but he didn't exactly want to take it back. He knew she would never cancel a mission but it didn't hurt him to suggest it.

"I can't." She said quietly and if Tony didn't know any better, he would have assumed the look on her face meant she was second guessing herself. He opened his mouth to gain more of a foot hold in the door but then she explained her reasoning and he was forced to concede. "It's a training run with potential Alphas."

Tony shut his mouth and swallowed before nodding. Some things he would push until the world ended but he was smart enough to leave this one alone. "Who are you taking?" He asked, genuinely curious as to which Beta agent Natasha approved of. She wasn't a person to give praise and he knew that she was harsh in her training, anyone under her instruction was probably terrified of her. He assumed she would never have nominated anyone to try for Alpha position in the agency, deeming them all unworthy considering how high her own standards were.

"Jenson." She told him and Tony nodded again. He barely knew the man but like many of the others, Tony had read his personal file –unknown to Natasha or anybody else of course. Jenson had been top of his class in every training facility he had ever been pushed through and he showed promise, that was certain. If Natasha thought he was good enough to move up the ranks into Alpha position, then he must be one of the best damn agents to ever enter SHIELD. "So there is no avoiding this mission. It's essentially a trial to see if he will ever be good enough to run with the elites."

Tony couldn't help throwing out one little question. "And Arrow Man can't take him?" he saw Natasha purse her lips before answering.

"_Clint_, is on another run. And this is _my _agent," She sounded almost possessive. "I have trained with him almost every day for the past eight months, if he succeeds in this mission then I sure as hell want to be there."

Tony didn't speak, but when he turned back to his work he was trying to hide a smile. She may have appeared as the stone cold killer and he knew that nearly everybody saw her that way, but he was aware that she would be proud when her agent completed the mission successfully. And there was little chance of failing, he was of course trained by the best.

A sudden string of vibrant swearing left his lips as the lights in the lab shut off all at once, plunging them into total darkness. Another couple of curses dropped as he turned by reflex and smacked his knee on the side of the workbench. The only light left at his disposal was the arc reactor that shone brightly in the centre of his chest, but only illuminated a few feet in front of him.

"Stark, what the fuck?" Natasha called from across the lab. Tony heard the very distinct sound of a gun being drawn and the safety flicking off.

"Jesus Romanoff, calm down. See this bright circle of light right here? Do me a favour and don't shoot anywhere near it okay?" He ran a hand through his hair and waited a few moments before his patience left him. "Come on already JARVIS! Tell me what the problem is!" No answer came from the artificial intelligence. "JARVIS? You there?" Still nothing. He sighed and looked around, unsure of what the cause was for the total blackout, but willing to bet it was the entire tower that had gone dark and not just his lab.

"What's going on Stark?" Tony looked toward Natasha's voice and saw a beam of light appear from a small torch in her hand. "If this is some kind of trick-"

"You caught me." Tony drawled sarcastically. "Welcome to my rape dungeon. Chains and whips are on the wall to your left and assorted toys are in the lower cupboards. Full tours are available on request." Tony's ears must have been playing tricks on him, because for a second he could have sworn he heard her laugh. The idea was dismissed almost instantly, Natasha Romanoff did not laugh. Ever.

As the lights came back on and flooded the room with glorious illumination, Tony blinked in slight annoyance against the harsh glare. "JARVIS you back too?"

"I never left." Came the reply. "Is there a problem sir?"

"A problem? Yeah you could say that. What the hell just happened to the power JARVIS?" He knew he sounded pissed off and frankly he was. His systems didn't just malfunction, they were top of the line. He barely noticed Natasha as she moved across the room to stand beside him and slipped her torch back into her belt, she was always so quiet when she moved, even if she wasn't trying to sneak around.

"My scanners are indicating nothing is wrong with the power." JARVIS replied after a moment. "The new reactor if functioning smoothly, the running levels are as high as predicted in initial tests."

"Look JARVIS, I didn't just imagine a total darkness moment, so run some more scans and get it fixed okay?" Tony ran a hand though his hair and turned toward Natasha, who still had her gun out. She raised her eyebrows at him as he leaned forward and eased it from her hands. He quickly unloaded it and disassembled the pieces to join the parts of the other gun she had already given him. "I'm not too comfortable having guns pointed at me." He admitted, dropping the pieces on the workbench.

"So what's the deal with the power failure?" Natasha asked him, not seeming too bothered by Tony taking away both of her guns. He was willing to bet that if she didn't have a third stashed on her somewhere, she would probably have half a dozen knives.

"You know as much as I do at this point." Tony rubbed his chin, trying to think of what the possible cause was for the malfunction and why JARVIS had no record of it occurring. "Maybe we imagined it." He looked to her, grinning even though she was straight faced. "Taken any shrooms lately? Did you slip me some acid?"

"What is wrong with you!" She exclaimed suddenly, surprising Tony into silence, something that was very hard to do. "Do you ever take anything seriously? Your power just went down, I bet you think your system is foolproof, unhackable, unbreakable and yet it just malfunctioned and your Artificial Intelligence has no idea what just happened!" Tony watched as she grabbed the pieces of her guns and reassembled them faster than Tony could ever have imagined to be possible. She slid them into her holsters and turned to leave. He wanted to stop her but for once his words had failed him and his shock kept his feet planted to the ground.

* * *

He didn't speak to her for three days after that, didn't even try and make contact but he did keep checking her location that was supplied by the trackers he had placed in both her guns. If she ever found out, she would kill him and that was a fact he believed to be set in stone. He was still no closer to figuring out what the hell caused the blackout and JARVIS was no help, since the computer couldn't actually locate any problem, it insisted there was no way to fix it. Whisky was like an old friend to Tony on the nights when he was alone, which was most nights and the number of those lonely nights only seemed to be increasing.

He sat at his bar, swirling the contents of his glass as he stared unblinkingly into its depths.

"Sir, the elevator-"

"No JARVIS, just focus on the power." Tony waved an arm even though the computer program wasn't technically in the room and couldn't exactly see the action. "I don't want to hear about it, unless it relates to the power failure, or it's a life or death situation."

"But sir, I believe it is. Agent Romanoff is in the elevator and appears to be wounded." Tony stood up immediately, his glass of alcohol forgotten and glanced toward the elevator at the side of the room, the panel at the top indicated it was in fact moving.

"JARVIS, I checked her tag half an hour ago and it said she was in Europe, no way she could have made it back this quickly." Tony moved toward the elevator and watched as the panel showed it had gone past the floor he was standing on. "Does the tracker say she is here?"

"No sir, the trackers you placed in her weapons clearly say she is still abroad. Shall I reroute the elevator back to this floor? She appears to be injured badly."

"Bring her back here." Tony nodded, waiting impatiently as he heard the whirring from the mechanics past the doors. When they finally opened he stared in shock at Natasha, who was leaning against the wall at the back, covered from head to toe in blood that may or may not have been all hers. She was paler than he had ever seen her, shaking from what he could only assume was blood loss and he was not surprised considering how much of it was smeared around the elevator. He was betting she had fallen down a couple of times during her ride but her dignity had forced her to claw her way back into a standing position.

"Jesus…" Tony rushed forward as she gave every sign of collapsing again, managing to prevent it buy holding her up as he knees buckled. "Holy shit Romanoff. Shit. Fuck. Come on." He started to pull her backwards from the elevator but her feet were dragging and she was barely conscious. He made the decision to lift her into his arms, hooking one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders. She would hate to be carried in such a way but if she was going to kill him she would need to do it later, when she had recovered. She was lighter than he expected and he tried not to think that it was because of how much blood she had lost.

"Stark…" She muttered his name which was a good sign, she clearly knew where she was and who was with her, but he could see her eyelids drooping and threatening to close. Tony was hurrying through to the other room where his phone was left on the table. He set her gently down on the couch and made a grab for his cell phone, flipping it open.

"Just hang on Romanoff, I'm calling this into the base-"

"No!" She half yelled the word and Tony saw how much of a struggle it was, sending her body into a spasm of pain. By reflex, he dropped to his knees beside her, rolling her to face him. Her eyes could barely focus on him but she was obviously determined to get her message across. "Jenson was a spy…. I fucked up, Don't contact SHIELD, I don't know who can be trusted… Didn't know where else to go…" As she spoke the last word her eyes closed and her body stilled, sending a shiver of pure fear rocketing through Tony.

"Natasha, Natasha!" He yelled, shaking her shoulders. After a moment he saw her chest move and could have collapsed with relief, she had just fallen unconscious, she was not dead. "Thank fuck." He mumbled, looking down her body and marvelling at the amount of blood that covered her. He stood and ran a hand through his hair, not caring that he had just smeared her blood through it. "Alright JARVIS, know anything about anything medical?"

There was a pause that Tony considered to be far too long considering the seriousness of the situation. "Yes." It was a single word as a reply and it was almost sarcastic. Tony ignored that fact, he had more pressing issues.

"Good, I'm going to need you to help me patch her up. If she dies, I'll have an arrow shot up my ass."


	3. Hiding Emotions with Insults

Natasha drifted in and out of consciousness, each time she felt her mind was clearer but she was having trouble keeping herself in reality. Her body was too tired to bend to the will of her mind and she would fall back into the darkness every time she thought she was winning the battle. Each time she breached the surface she could hear a voice speaking to her, but the words were impossible to make out and she couldn't even open her eyes to discover the identity of the speaker, all she could do was groan and shift a little before going back under.

When the fog of her mind finally cleared and she had regained enough energy to keep herself conscious, she became aware of the pain almost instantly. She knew that she was going to stay awake by the way that her body was no longer numb, her mind was sharp enough to feel everything. It was her left shoulder and right leg that burned like fire, memories of being shot came back as soon as she was aware of being awake. It was either skill or a miracle that deemed her to be alive, her reflexes had saved her as much as her instincts had doomed her.

After the pain became apparent and she inhaled deeply to try and breathe through it, she began to notice other things around her, mainly the softness of the material she was lying on. This prompted her to open her eyes and the moment she saw her surroundings she remembered where she had come and who she had trusted enough to help her. She'd never been in the room before, but she assumed it to be Tony's bedroom, judging by the way it was modernly decorated with obviously over priced furniture.

She looked down at her body and noticed the bandages around her shoulder, logic telling her that there was more around her upper thigh and when she lifted her head to check, her theory was confirmed. Blood had seeped through both sets but she was thankful that neither wounds seemed to be overly threatening and though they hurt, she knew there were no infections. She slowly pushed herself into a sitting position and gritted her teeth to overcome the dizzying wave that rolled through her. She could tell she had lost a good deal of blood, she had been certain that the bullet to her leg had come close to an artery and the weakness she felt seemed to confirm that.

Still she pressed forward and held her breath as she shakily stood up, not content with lying on the Egyptian threaded sheets like an incapacitated child. As she rose up to full height, groaning at the strain of her muscles, she caught sight of herself in the mirror across the room and was surprised at how pale she was. It had been a close call, that was for sure and she knew she would be kicking herself about the whole situation for a long time.

Still in only her underwear, she could see the range of bruises across her exposed skin that vividly contrasted against the general paleness. She brushed light fingers over a very distinct boot mark on her abdomen, wincing at the tender feel of the purpling bruise. She was lucky to have made it out alive. She thought that about most of her missions that went south, though admittedly there weren't many that didn't run smoothly. This one had been different, it turned out she had been making a huge mistake every day for eight months. She was ashamed of herself, she should have known better.

"How are you feeling?" The voice surprised her but to her credit she didn't flinch in the slightest as she turned to the doorway and saw Tony walk through. He appeared calm enough but she could see the worry in his eyes.

"Better." She told him. It was honest, she felt like absolute shit but at least she was up and talking, if not walking. She doubted she would be able to put pressure of her right leg for awhile, the wound wasn't exactly a pleasant one. As if he knew what she was thinking about, he flicked a hand toward the bandages on her thigh and frowned.

"The gaping hole that was in your leg, was it from a bullet or not? It was a mess when I was trying to stop the bleeding."

Natasha accepted the weakness of her body and eased herself back onto the edge of the bed, taking a few deep breaths. "It was from a bullet. But I had to dig it out and I didn't exactly have time to be gentle."

"What the hell did you use? A spaghetti strainer?"

He may have been joking but when Natasha held up her finger and thumb, she adorned an expression that was deadly serious.

"You are one tough chick." He muttered the words and Natasha got the feeling he hadn't meant them to be loud enough for her to hear them and so she didn't comment. Neither of them spoke for a minute until he finally asked the question she had been expecting. "You going to tell me what happened? And the short version is fine, I don't need all the details of your in-flight meals and the hotel bills."

Natasha glanced down at her hands, making the terrible decision to try and relieve the strain of her left shoulder. As she started to roll it gently, pain shot through her entire arm and she snapped her teeth together, forced to stop the movement. "Short version? Jenson turned on me first chance he got. Took me almost two days to lose the tails he sent after me and when I made it back state side, I found there were some people waiting for me. Agents I recognized, people that I've worked with before, pulling guns on me."

"How many did you take out?"

Natasha almost smiled at the question, she liked that he didn't ask _if_ she had managed to take any out, he just assumed there would be a number above zero and he wanted to know what it was. "Three for sure, I downed a fourth but I don't know if he made it. There was about seven there. Seven rogues."

"At least seven." He pointed out and she looked up, met his gaze for a moment before nodding in agreement.

"At least seven. You're right, there is likely more and we have no idea who or how many others." She went to rub her forehead with both hands, momentarily forgetting that one shoulder was bandaged though the pain was a quick reminder. She groaned and knew what little color was left in her cheeks had quickly drained.

"Take it easy." Tony's voice was a lot closer than before and she realized he had quickly crossed the room at her noise of pain.

"I'm okay." She insisted, pushing away his protesting hands as she tried to stand up again. Black spots clouded the edges of her vision but she refused to acknowledge them and tried to push though the nausea. She stumbled slightly and when she planted her right foot by reflex, the responding wave of pain was enough for her to black out immediately.

When she awoke again she opened her eyes straight away and saw Tony sitting directly beside the bed, frowning at her.

"If you try to stand again, I'll be forced to tie you to the bed." He stroked his chin and the frown disappeared to be replaced with a grin. "Although, that might end up being quite fun."

Natasha rolled her eyes and pulled herself into a sitting position, leaning her back against the head board. "Always the charmer Stark." She muttered, not caring if he heard.

"What's the plan then Romanoff? Chill at the tower while there are armed agents combing the streets for you? Eventually someone will think to check here."

"I apologize for the inconvenience." She shot defensively, sending him a glare. "I'll get out of your hair the moment I-" She was silenced by the way he held up his hand to stop her talking.

"That's not what I meant." He was back to frowning at her and he seemed genuinely insulted by her defensive reaction. "This could possibly be the safest place for you at the moment, especially if you can't return to the base. Normally I would suggest you try and contact Arrow Man, but as far as I know he's still out of the country."

Natasha blinked in surprise as she digested his words and understood the vague suggestion that was offered between the lines. "Are you… saying I should stay here?" She asked for clarification.

He shrugged and leaned back in the chair, "Like I said, it'll be safe here. You do have Iron Man to protect you." He winked at her and gave her a grin that was suggestive even though his words had been clean. Natasha wasn't exactly fond of the idea but it held enough logic for her to consider it. The tower was really the perfect place for her to lay low and hide until she could figure out what was going on. Even if it was discovered that she was there, it wasn't like anybody could break in and come for her, Tony's systems were state of the art and failing that, he had his suits for defence.

"Does anybody know I'm here?" She asked, her expression was more suspicious than she was trying to convey but he didn't seem bothered.

"I haven't told a soul." He said and she could tell he was truthful.

"I owe you thanks." She met his eyes with a serious expression. "For helping me. I'm aware that I was in a bad state." He nodded and seemed to match her level of seriousness, leaning forward and resting his hands on his knees.

"You were pretty bad." He confirmed. "Blood everywhere. I'm guessing most of it was yours, but no doubt a good deal belonged to others. I just tossed your clothes out, had to cut everything off you anyway so it was all ruined."

Natasha glanced down at the bandages on her shoulder, using the fingers of her other hand to pull gently at the edges. "You did well." She told him, impressed considering she knew he had no official medical knowledge or training. "Not too tight, covering the wound well."

"JARVIS was giving me instructions." Tony admitted, as though he didn't want to take credit for something he felt he didn't deserve. "Suppose you are hungry? You've been out for a while, honestly there were some points when I didn't think you were even going to wake up." The tone of his voice caught her attention, the way it grew quiet and a little softer, slight emotion showing through. As if he realized, he quickly stood up and grabbed a black robe that hung from the wardrobe door. "Come on lazy, can't stay in bed all day."

Despite the strain of her body, Natasha smiled at the way he so blatantly tried to hide his apparent worry with something of an insult. She allowed him to help her stand and closed her eyes to endure the aching as he pulled her arms into the sleeves of the robe. As he went to tie the front she stopped him.

"I'm not _completely_ incompetent." She told him, making the knot herself. She didn't protest as he lifted her right arm over his shoulder and slipped a supporting arm around her waist, she knew it would be ridiculous to try and walk on her injured leg and she had to accept his help. "I suppose I should be thankful you left my underwear on. Part of me thinks I should have expected to wake up fully naked."

"And who says I didn't just put your underwear back on before you woke up?" She glanced up, unable to tell from his voice if he was just teasing or he was serious. His face gave her no answer and she narrowed her eyes, completely unsure.

"Stark…." She said slowly, her tone full of warning. "Was I naked?"

He looked down to her and his grin was nearly predatory. Even as he opened his mouth she used her injured arm to whack him in the ribs, not caring how much pain it caused herself. The motion caused her to stumble and she felt herself falling to the side, unable to use any method to stop the fall. Before she could tumble he tightened his arm around her and pulled her back upright, she knew he had waited until the last possible moment before saving her.

"You were never naked." He told her honestly. "Jesus Romanoff, you were shot twice and covered in blood, how much of a creep do you think I am?"

She fell into silence as he helped her limp out of the bedroom, seeming to take almost all of her weight easily. He was stronger that he appeared and she knew he was tougher than he was given credit for, also that he did care others more than he let on. He helped her, saved her and fixed her up. But more than that, he had cleaned all the blood from her body and she knew she had been nearly drenched in it. That was a personal act, something that even she wouldn't bother to do for many people if she was sewing up their bullet holes.

"Stark?" Her face was strained as she hopped, knowing that if he made any sort of comment regarding her weakened state, she would show him how well she could fight even while injured.

"Yes?"

"I could use a drink."

"Well you came to the right place. I've got everything."

* * *

**The responses so far have been really good, rest assured that I will keep this going as long as I know there are at least some people that enjoy it, even if it isn't the most popular ship.**


	4. Comedy masking Tradgedy

Taking care of another person was a concept that Tony found remarkably difficult, especially when that person was a deadly assassin who could not stand seeming weak. He could not say that he knew Natasha very well, but he was very aware of how negatively she reacted any time he made the insinuation that she needed to be helped. She barely ate any of the food he gave her, even though her body must have been starved and she desperately needed to regain her strength. He wanted to suggest she go to a hospital, but he knew she would never agree and if he pushed the matter she would leave, taking it upon herself to administer her own care.

Then she would probably disappear and Tony would have no idea if she was bleeding out in an alley, or burning up from infection. It was hard for him to bite his tongue as he watched her eat, wanting to know more about the mission and the danger she was in, but he was hesitant about bringing up the topic of the rogue agents. A man that she had come to know and probably even trusted a little, had completely turned on her. Every time her face darkened and her jaw set itself in a hard line, Tony figured she was thinking about plans for revenge, most of them involving more pain than any one person could possibly handle.

She only made it halfway through the sandwich and gave Tony a stern look when he tried to suggest she eat all of it. He lifted his hands in surrender and said nothing further, not even making a joke about how bad the food must have tasted if she couldn't finish it. As he watched her run a finger along the edge of the plate, somehow making it seem as though the dish could actually be used as a weapon, Tony was reminded of her guns.

"One thing I don't understand," He spoke up, leaning across the bar to look at her with a serious face. She glanced up and allowed him to continue, her face unreadable. "The tracking chips in your guns clearly say that you are still in France-"

"There are no tracers in any of my weapons." She interrupted him, seeming indignant, as though his very suggestion was ridiculous. "I scan for bugs every time I go anywhere, weapons are the first things I check."

Tony smirked with a little of his well known pride. "Actually, there is a tracking chip in each of your guns and there is no bug sweeper that has been invented which could pick up on my technology." He was surprised by the look on her face, he had been expecting anger and yet is was close to realization.

"That's why." She whispered, standing up from her seat and planting both hands on the bar. "That is why I couldn't lose the tails until I ditched my weapons! I thought I was losing it! That my mind was imploding! But I was being tracked!" The anger came then, her whole face contorting with rage and making Tony feel uneasy. Normally she lacked emotions of any sort, but Tony had seen her anger before and as reckless as he was, he had no will to be on the receiving end of it.

"Whoa, hang on a minute, just calm down." He moved around the side of the bar and was uncomfortable about the way her eyes followed him, as though she expected him to grab a weapon and attack her. He kept his hands splayed in front of him so she had no reason to be overly suspicious. "Those trackers are linked directly to my systems here at the tower, not at the base. No one has access to them apart from me." She listened to his words but he could tell she did not believe them.

"They managed to ambush me at every turn, every time I thought I was finally safe there was someone waiting for me. I'm not an idiot Stark, I know how to lose a tail within minutes and these guys kept on me until the moment I had to leave my guns, which was just at the airfield. They followed me there and then must have figured out exactly where I was going after that because there is no way in hell that anybody should have been waiting for me when I arrived back here." She had gone from raging, to calm but it was eerie and Tony knew she was completely on edge.

"Come on, think about what you are insinuating." He dropped onto the stool that she had just vacated. "If, _if_ your tails had found you through my trackers, then it would mean they had gone through my systems. There is just no way." He gave her a smile to try and put her more at ease but she clearly wasn't buying it. He let the smile drop as he realized the significance of what she was suggesting. Even though it seemed ludicrous to him, she evidently believed that he was the cause of the danger she had been put through after escaping, including the bullets she had taken. He sincerely hoped that none of that was his fault in any way.

"Humour me for a moment." She said quietly, locking her eyes with his and he didn't dare turn away. "How would you know if somebody actually managed to get into your system?"

Tony decided to humour her and rubbed his chin as he thought about it. "Well, it's _impossible._ But, if that was the case then there would be some kind of trace. I can get into any system without leaving any sign but there is just no way that anyone could get into mine unnoticed."

He didn't like the way Natasha's eyes narrowed at him, her mind ticking so fast it was nearly audible. "So something would happen? Something like…. A power outage that JARVIS wasn't even aware of?"

Tony opened his mouth and then found there was no words available for a reply. Natasha seemed to have a habit of leaving him speechless, a rarity in itself. He let his mind work out the scenario, each second that passed was ensuring it to be more and more likely, until he finally slammed his hand down on the bar and stood up again, nearly as angry as she had been.

"Shit." He scratched at his chin and whirled to face her, unable to believe he had been so incredibly stupid. "You're right. You are absolutely right. I should have seen that power cut as a sign of intrusion, but I was so confident about my programs that I didn't even consider the possibility." He groaned and ran a hand through his hair, trying to resist the urge to tear it out.

"People make mistakes." He looked back up at her as she spoke, her tone wasn't reassuring in any kind of way and her eyes had taken on that deadly look. Tony was reminded of a snake about to strike.

He knew he should apologize, that his actions had very nearly gotten her killed but apologies were not something that came easily to Tony, even when he was sincere in his regret. The idea of somebody out smarting him was insulting and he was hit with a feeling of inadequacy that didn't come around very often. He watched Natasha as she moved away from him and tried to take a step, her leg buckling and pain flaring across her face as she made a grab for the bar in an effort to keep herself upright.

"Whoa, easy." Tony was beside her in an instant, looping his arm around her waist. "Where are you trying to go Speed Racer?" She reluctantly had to accept his help and he hid his smile at how much she would be hating the way she was forced to lean on him.

"The window." She panted, slowly putting her uninjured arm around his shoulders. It was a subtle battle between the two of them, he was trying to take as much of her weight as possible and she was trying to give him the least amount that she could. He carefully guided her to the huge bay windows and waited for her reasoning for wanting to be taken there.

"I didn't even know it could be this sunny at this point in the year." She said quietly, causing Tony to glance at her in confusion. Her eyes were rapidly scanning the view of the city, able to see for miles due to the height of the tower and clearness of the weather. "Not that the cold bothers me."

"What are you-"

"I ran a mission in Hawaii not too long ago. I really don't think heat is something I enjoy. Cold is in my blood I suppose." She was so calm and casual that Tony could have sworn he had stepped into some wild alternate Universe. Her voice and face were relaxed but those eyes seemed as though they were taking in every detail they possibly could.

"Seriously, you're starting to freak me out- ah!" Tony groaned her nails dug into his neck, nearly breaking through the skin. He stared at her pointedly but she didn't even look at him.

"I'm assuming you would have been to Hawaii, billionaires seem to love it as a holiday destination." She showed no indication that she was even aware of nearly stabbing her nails through his neck.

"I've never been. Though I would like to go." At least that was an honest answer in the middle of a confusing situation. "Maybe you and I could go some time? They have naked beaches, that could be fun."

"Sounds good."

It was then that he knew with absolute certainty that it was an act of some sort. There was no sarcastic response to a question that was meant in a suggestive way, he knew she would never agree to go with him. He lapsed into silence and let her finish whatever she was doing, but after another minute he had figured it all out and when she asked him to move her back to the bar, he took her right into his bedroom, completely out of sight. His curtains were still shut, when Natasha had been unconscious he had moved her to his bedroom and tried to keep her in a dark environment, knowing it would help when she awoke.

"So how much trouble are we in?" He asked casually as she eased herself onto the bed, one hand placed over her injured shoulder. Her face was strained but she seemed to be breathing through the pain.

"I saw four from that window alone. There must be more." She peeled the edge of the bandage away from her shoulder, gritting her teeth to complete the action. He expected her to take it right off but she just inspected the wound and then pressed the bandage back to her skin.

"Can all snipers read lips?" Tony asked, dropping into the chair that he had placed beside the bed.

"Yes. It comes into use more often than you would think." She paused and then gave him a very serious look. "I'm not going to Hawaii with you."

"Oh, that was all for show?" He narrowed his eyes in mocking accusation and she just continued to stare at him, seemingly not pleased by his efforts to make light of the situation. "Alright, you're the spy, how do we take them out in a subtle way?" She seemed more interested as he hinted towards action instead of comedy.

"I need a gun." She said almost instantly. "Something with an accurate scope." She looked rather earnest and Tony couldn't help but give a slightly sarcastic answer.

"Sorry, fresh out of sniper rifles, try again next week." He was grinning at her and was not at all surprised that she didn't smile back.

"Stark-" She sighed but Tony lifted his hand, making the difficult decision to try and be a little more serious. She did not need the added stress of his attempts to lighten everything up. He stood up and extended a hand to pull her off the bed.

"Come on, I'll take you into the lab, it's quite literally the safest place in this tower."

"Are you sure?" She asked hesitantly, allowing him to pull her off the bed and resume his hold around her waist.

"It sure as hell better be, that's where the suits are." He led her out through the bedroom and back into the room where she had managed to scope out the snipers with what he anticipated was her exceptional instincts and years of training. He wasn't concerned about anyone taking a shot as they passed, the glass was bullet proof of course, they would need something more powerful than a rifle to break through it.

He heard a strange noise as he helped her through the room and paused just as they reached the bar, both of them turning towards the bay windows, which were moving. Each huge panel of glass was turning to the side by electronic control and let in a gentle breeze that carried a serious feeling of foreboding.

"Stark…" Natasha whispered, "Move, now."

He wasn't fast enough and in a sudden moment that he would later have to thank her for, she tackled him to the side, just as he became aware of bullets slamming into the room around them. He heard Natasha's cry of pain over the sound of the area being torn apart, she rolled off him the moment they had sprawled across the floor, clutching her shoulder with a hand that was rapidly being covered in fresh blood.

Tony finally launched into action and hooked his arm around her stomach, unceremoniously dragging her body with him as he crawled around the side of the bar, using it for shelter as the bullets continued to fire in. The huge mirror on the wall above them shattered into cascading pieces and Tony threw himself over Natasha, curling around her body in an effort to protect her from the shards.

When they were safe from the glass he shook his head and wasn't surprised by the small pieces that rained from his hair, falling to the floor to join the rest of the mirror. He glanced at Natasha who had her eyes shut tightly and was shockingly pale, instinctively trying to keep pressure on the wound in her shoulder which had obviously reopened. During a tackle that had no doubt saved Tony's life, he would have to owe her big time for that one. Her eyes snapped open as though she sensed his gaze and despite everything, Tony grinned down at her, keeping his hands on either side of her head.

"Well, I knew I'd have you under me eventually-"

"Are you kidding me!" She yelled, her face changing from rage to pain and then back to wild anger. "What the hell is wrong with you?" The bullets had died down but suddenly started back up with more frequency, slamming into the other side of the bar and all along the wall. He pulled her under him even more, keeping them both against the bar and out of the way of the debris that rained from the walls.

"Stay here!" He yelled in her ear and then threw himself to the side, making a miracle dive across the room with the only defence against the bullets being sheer hope and an arrogant sense of self preservation.

* * *

**I don't normally update stories so quick because of how many I have to do and other factors, e.g real life, but this one has had such a warm response that I can't help it. The more reviews I get and the more encouraging they are, the more I want to update as fast as possible. **


	5. In This Together

**I have no idea how suitable my chapter length is, but since I was asked for a longer one, here you go, this is kind of two chapters I suppose.(I pretty much run on an 'ask and you shall receive' basis.) Hopefully this will satisfy the masses. **

* * *

Natasha was trying her best to keep a level head as the bullets swirled around her. It was certainly not the first time that she had come under heavy siege and admittedly not even the first time that such a thing had happened while she was injured. But during those other times, she was either alone or with highly trained agents that she could depend on to handle themselves. Tony may have been working with a secret government organization and he may also have had a hand in saving the world, but she had to consider him as a civilian.

So she was altogether shocked as he launched himself into the spray of bullets and rolled across the ground with more execution than she would have expected from a civilian. She yelled his name but she doubted he could even hear her and for a split second she considered going straight after him. It was only logic that held her back, not even sense or safety, it was the fact that her injuries would prevent her from being able to help him and probably only get them both killed.

Somehow he made it across the room and just before he scrambled through the door he turned, giving her a reassuring look.

"You are one crazy son of a bitch." She muttered as he disappeared, moving herself into a sitting position but still keeping her body in the smallest shape possible, to avoid being hit with the falling debris. She was willing to bet he had gone for one of his legendary suits and her theory was confirmed a minute later when he blasted his way through the wall directly in front of her. She threw her arms over her head in reflex but nothing hit her, she assumed he had calculated the perfect place to break through and the safest amount of force to use.

The bullets slammed off him, unable to penetrate the dense alloy and this was good for him but bad for Natasha, who was suddenly at risk from rebounding bullets. Tony didn't say a word as he walked forward with heavy steps and quite literally ripped the entire bar from the floor, sending glasses and assorted objects scattering on the floor. Natasha awkwardly moved to her feet, understanding what Tony had planned and quickly moved behind the bar as he spun it on its end and created a mobile shield for her.

With both of his hands gripping the makeshift shield, Natasha had to walk unaided and speed was not possible unless she wanted to rip the stitches in her leg as well. The shattered glass on the floor sliced at her feet but she couldn't risk focusing on it, the pain was minor in comparison to the wound from her leg and she only managed a few steps before it gave out on her. Tony had been walking close to her, and as she started to fall he freed his hands in an instant, grabbing her before she could sprawl across the ground.

The sound of the bullets changed rapidly, from the dull noises of them hitting the wood of the bar, to the metal on metal sounds of them hitting the suit. Natasha flinched as a small pain flashed on from her calf but when she looked down, she could only see a thin red line, the passing bullet had barely broken the skin. Tony was using himself to shield her as much as possible and it was moderately effective, but she was still partially in view and at risk.

"Cover your head." His voice was shockingly calm and sounded just a little altered, having to be projected through the faceplate. Natasha did as she was told, leaning her forehead against his chest and placing her arms over her head. His arms wrapped solidly around her and her body was put through a state of near whiplash as he ignited the thrusters in his feet, propelling them directly through the ceiling.

She stumbled a little as her feet hit solid ground again, but he was there to ensure she did not fall, the faceplate sliding back almost immediately as he gripped her uninjured shoulder. "Are you hurt?" He asked, bending a little to check her for any extra injuries. She shook her head, pain was radiating from both her leg and shoulder but her mind was managing to get that under control.

"We need to get you to safety." Tony said, his voice sounding more official and serious than she had heard from him in a long time. "This way." He slipped an arm around her waist and didn't even pause before he swept her up, knocking out her legs to place an arm securely under them. She assumed he was just going to assist her in walking and had dutifully wrapped her arm over his shoulders, the action being strained with the added height he had gained from the suit. But when he revealed his true intention she was livid.

"Put me down!" She commanded as he started to run through the room and out into the hall. Each footstep dinted the floor, but he didn't seem to care that he was breaking his own tower, considering he kicked the door down instead of trying to open it.

"No. Just hold still." He replied, holding her tightly as he increased his pace, clearly trying to keep her as steady as possible to avoid hurting her further. "Shut up and do as you're told." It was strange to hear him speak and find his words lacking intended humour or heavy sarcasm.

"Stark! I swear to God, if you don't put me down-"

"Natasha!" It was her first name and the personal touch that caused her to fall silent as he stopped walking and stared down at her. "Just. Let. Me. Help. You." He gritted his teeth and the frustration of each word was evident. Before the moment could get intimate or possibly awkward, he broke calmness of the situation by sliding his face plate shut and tilting his head away from her. She waited for him to speak but he said nothing and she did not try and fill the silence with her own words. After a moment he started to move again, the heavy clanking of his feet being the only thing that Natasha focused on.

The route to his lab was considerably short, time saved by the way he blasted through walls and kicked down doors instead of taking the longer options. He walked straight to the centre and gently sat her down on one of the workbenches, forcibly stopping her as she tried to step down. The mask skid back again and he gave her a serious look that warned her to stay in place before he crossed the lab and quickly returned, holding a medical kit in his hands. She took it and ripped the lid off, pulling out a thick bandage. She had every intention of dressing the wound herself, but before she could even begin, Tony had taken off his metal hands and set them down beside her.

She glanced over at them with a mild look of confusion, she hadn't even been aware that they could be removed as simply as gloves and she realized she had very little knowledge about how Tony's suit actually worked. With an expression of pain, she pulled away the shoulder of her robe and gave no protest as he pulled away the sodden bandage that was barely covering the wound. She gritted her teeth and let out a hiss as he firmly pressed the fresh bandage to her skin, closing her eyes to inhale sharply.

"Sir, they have reached the thirteenth floor." Natasha heard JARVIS form a speaker inside the suit, the AI sounded muffled but she heard him clearly.

"What?" She looked up at Tony and refused to flinch as he placed a flat palm directly over her bandaged wound to stick down the edges. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

"We'll have to re-stitch this later." He muttered, blatantly ignoring her question and from the speaker in his suit, Natasha distinctly heard 'Fourteenth floor. Fifteenth.' He looked up from her shoulder and met her gaze.

"Stark. What is going on?" He turned away but she grabbed his arm, her fingers closing around cool metal to yank him back toward her. "Tony." She lowered her voice, using his first name in the hope that it would have as much of an impact as he had done with hers. "Please, just tell me what is going on." His face softened then hardened and he moved his arm from her grip before he answered her.

"My entire system is _infected_." He spat the word, as if it referred to a literal sickness that he was in danger of catching. "There is a strike team moving through the building. They waltzed in through the front door without any resistance whatsoever."

Natasha was about to mention the fact that he had guards in the lobby, but she quickly came to the realization that if men had already stormed to the fifteenth floor, then those guards would certainly be dead. She didn't bother to offer her condolences to Tony, their deaths were a matter of indifference to her and she doubted he had ever met them, just signed off on their pay roles until Pepper had taken offer his company. He suddenly stiffened and titled his head, obviously listening to something from JARVIS. Whatever it was launched him into action and he grabbed his gloves moving them back onto his hands, captivating Natasha's attention as she watched the countless moving parts all sync back into place. He quickly wrapped an arm around her shoulders, lifting her back into his arms. She didn't argue, though every instinct inside her was degraded by the situation.

"Curl up." He commanded and she blinked in confusion before complying, curling her body into a ball so he could hold her with just one arm, the other lifting to aim above his head. She understood immediately and ducked her head as well as she could, closing her eyes just as he blasted through the roof and showered her with yet more debris. He didn't stop at one a single ceiling, Natasha was able to count three before she deemed it to be safe enough to lift her head.

She realized they were on the roof as she was hit with a sudden gust of wind and she looked around, squinting in the sudden harsh glare of sunlight. Thankfully Tony gently eased her down, but stayed close in case she needed assistance. He seemed to be listening to JARVIS so Natasha made the decision not to interrupt, she was focusing on the expression he was wearing. She was so used to him trying to be the joker, never taking anything seriously and yet he looked like he was ready for action. Suddenly his eyes lifted to hers and they were set harder than she had even seen them. If there was something that could shake the great Tony Stark, then Natasha knew it must have been bad.

His eyes slid over her shoulder and widened slightly, tension filling his face. As she started to turn he grabbed her arms and kept her in place, purposely locking her eyes to his.

"Do you trust me?" He asked quietly, his voice barely audible over the howl of the wind. He was so serious, so intense that Natasha had trouble finding her words and truthfully had to consider them carefully. Trust was not something that came easy to her, there were _very_ few people that could ever boast holding her trust, there was too much betrayal in her life. Her initial answer would have been no, except she couldn't bring that one to her lips. She knew, that on some level she must have already placed her trust in him, or she would not have come to him for help when she was bleeding out.

His eyes were pleading with her, begging her to agree as his fingers pressed into her arms harder than he would have realized.

"Yes." She whispered, feeling her chest tighten at the word. Surprise flared within those intense eyes and she understood that even though he was hoping for that answer, he did not expect it. That was good, it meant he was aware of the significance of what she had just confirmed.

"Then I am sorry for this." He pulled her forward and harshly pressed his lips to hers. Before she could even think, before any sort of reaction came to mind, whether it would have been violent or not, she felt his grip become impossibly tight and then she was suddenly hurled through the air. She yelled out when his hands released her, her body spinning unceremoniously as it cleared the edge of the roof and turned into a freefall dive. Even in her complete and utter shock, she heard the unmistakable sound of rotor blades and just before she fell out of sight, she saw Tony turn to face the incoming gunner helicopter, his mask sliding up to signal he was ready for action.

Well that was all very well and good, if he wanted to get his rocks of regarding violence then that was fine with Natasha. What she did _not_ approve of, was the fact that she now faced an inevitable pancaking when she eventually reached the pavement. Her mind raced to calculate the force of the collision by using the height of the tower and her increasing velocity, concluding that when she finally landed, her body would be resulted to mush. If the pressure from the fall didn't shut down her brain first.

* * *

That was certainly a first for Tony.

He could honestly say that he had never kissed a woman and then threw her off the side of his tower. Oh, he knew that when he got back to her he was going to be in for a serious ass kicking, injured or not, she could easily take him down the moment he took off the suit.

As his mask slid back into place he turned and did not move when the approaching chopper opened fire. The bullets slammed into the ground directly at his feet, five seconds earlier and those heavy calibre shells would have literally torn Natasha apart. He tried not to think of how he had just erased whatever trust he had somehow managed to gleam, that single word was one he never expected but he was certain that her answer would be remarkably different if he ever asked her the question again.

Being a much higher power than regular bullets, the ones from the gunner chopper held enough force to knock him back a couple of steps before he ignited his thrusters and launched himself into the air. He sent out blasts from his palms as he flew, skilfully manoeuvring in a way that led him to avoid most of rapid gunfire. When he neared the aerial vehicle, he held both his hands out in front of him and used his other thrusters to hover, sending a powerful blast towards his target. The resulting explosion knocked him off his trajectory and he swore as it messed with the calculations that his mind was running as it tried to keep focus on how close Natasha was getting to the ground.

He knew he was cutting it close as he turned and sped over the edge of the building, his targeting system automatically locating Natasha who had fallen a lot farther than he expected. His heart raced as he urged more from his suit, very aware that it was going to be difficult enough for himself to pull out of the dive he had entered into, let alone bring another person up with him.

"Impact warning in seven seconds." JARVIS pointed out, his voice stunningly calm considering the topic.

"Yes, thank you!" Tony narrowed his eyes and extended his arms as he neard his target, sending an extra boost to the thrusters in his feet. It would not have been pleasant for her as they collided, Tony was well aware that he gave her a solid knock as his arms wrapped around her and he pulled his body out of the dive. They had come so close to the ground that the power of his thrusters shattered the windscreen of a BMW as he halted the horrific descent. By rights, Natasha should have been unconscious, if not from the intense pressure of such an accelerated fall, then at least by the impact from Tony slamming into her.

Though she appeared to be disorientated and evidently still in a lot of pain, she was definitely conscious. Tony was impressed, he continued to underestimate her, often a mistake that could be deadly. He held her as gently as he could, slowly powering down so that they could land softly. She coughed and groaned, seemingly uncomfortable in his arms but making no move to try and free herself, her eyes shutting tightly as she gritted her teeth to try and endure what her body was going through.

"Natasha?" He spoke quietly, a little concerned at how pale she had become once again.

"You bastard." She muttered, her voice strained, her breathing laboured. "I'll kill you, you son of a bitch, I'll fucking kill you."

He grinned and was overwhelmingly thankful that she could not see his face behind the mask. She opened her eyes and he saw how hard she was trying to focus, but it was clear that she could barely see him. She may have stayed conscious during the fall but her body was trying to give up on her. He was impressed once again, at how hard she was fighting and how desperate she was to retain her hold on reality.

"It's okay." He said calmly. "You can let go. I'm here."

He didn't know if his words actually held any effect, of if she had just simply lost the battle she so valiantly pushed through, but after he spoke she seemed to relax and her eyelids drooped and she blacked out. Tony wasn't a fool, he knew how tough she was and still he continued to discover her hidden strength. He knew her blood loss and previous injuries were a factor in how she was now. Not to mention the mental trauma she must have gone through, having somebody she knew well, or thought she knew well, suddenly turn on her. She would be the kind of person to blame herself entirely, seeing it all as her fault.

But what she would fail to see, is that everybody else was fooled as well. Considering SHIELD was an organization of paranoid spies, there was never really any talk of potential traitors within the mix. Tony assumed everyone had their own little suspicions and that a good deal of those would be focused on a certain Russian spy who was known as the agent who tricked the God of Lies. But he had not heard any conclusive mention of possible rogues before Natasha had showed up covered in blood.

He would never tell her, but the night after he patched her up and got her into his bed, he had been haunted by the image of her in the elevator. She was one of the strongest people he knew and it had shocked him to see her so weak. If he _ever_ used that specific word in front of her, he would most likely be neutered on the spot. He hadn't left her side for more than a few minutes, he was so worried about her heart stopping from the blood loss. But she had proven her strength and pulled through once again. He hadn't exactly slept, but he had dozed on and off, his mind filled with dreams that mostly depicted an alternate scenario when the elevator had opened to reveal Natasha on the floor, already having died from her injuries.

Those images caused double waves of guilt, since he was responsible for the initial injuries and then not being able to save her from them.

"JARVIS, go to protocol 661." He said quietly, walking back into a side alley before anyone could see Iron Man holding a bleeding woman in a silken robe. "Lock yourself away from everything. Erase it all. No doubt they will already have gotten into a lot of things, but the deeper levels of information may remain intact. The priority is to get rid of the suit schematics. Have they been compromised?"

"No sir, the blueprints of the suits remain secure, at the deepest level of your data files."

"Erase them, now."

"Deletion is complete."

"Alright, work on the rest of the files. I want everything gone. Put yourself on backup mode. Basics only. Are there any locations that haven't been compromised?"

"Only two sir. The house in Bali and your most recent purchase, which has not been discovered. I am deleting it from the records right now."

Tony chewed on his lip for a moment before glancing down at Natasha, who was limp in his arms. Such a rare sight, to have someone like that unconscious, there were people who sell their souls to have Natasha in such a vulnerable position. Tony was well aware of how many assassin's considered her to be the golden target, they could rise to the top of their trade in an instant if they could become known as the one who took down the Black Widow. Tony was connected to the underworld more than anybody thought and he knew more about the woman in his arms than she would have probably been comfortable with.

"I'll go upstate. It's closer than the one in Bali by a lot. I want you to open a channel and run the recognition software for Agent Barton. The moment he speaks within range of a microphone, you let me know. I don't care if he is on the moon, you tell me the second you find him."

"Yes sir. Good luck."

Tony could have made his trip in an hour, the distance was quite vast but he was at an outrageous speed with the new power regulations that SHIELD had allowed him. However, as much as he wanted to get Natasha to a safe place, he took one hell of a detouring route to get there. JARVIS blocked him from all satellites as he zig zagged on a large scale. Only when he was absolutely sure that he could not be traced, he doubled back to his location. He realized that it was difficult for him to even find the house he was seeking, the forest around it was so dense and the trees were so tall that his auto targeting system had to locate the specific area for him.

That was why the large house had cost more than even Tony believed it should, because it was entirely modernized but was in the middle of an amazingly old forest. The entire area was supposed to be taken down by a logging company, but Tony had brought every single acre of the vast forest, unable to let the corporation tear down the ancient trees. When the logging company pressed forward and tried to take him to court, he brought the company itself and had the entire thing liquidated.

The sun was setting as he finally landed on the gravel path leading to the front door, carefully repositioning Natasha so he could push open the front door. It wasn't locked, there wasn't another soul for miles and the road to the house itself was just as hard to find from the street as it is from the sky.

"Hang on Sleeping Beauty." He muttered, taking her with both arms again as he carefully kicked the door shut behind him. The house was scarcely furnished, Tony hadn't really had the time to do anything with it, but there was a long leather couch that he could gently set her down on. He watched her for a moment before moving away and beginning the horrible task of manually removing his suit, piece by piece. He nearly always used the robotics to uncase himself, but without that option he was forced to do it without assistance. He was aching after such a sustained flight, tried and drained of energy.

He stretched his arms up as he finally came free of the last piece, as usual he felt somewhat smaller and significantly more vulnerable without his high tech shielding. After glancing back at Natasha for a moment he moved into the kitchen and grabbed a glass, filling it with water that he promptly drained. He refilled it and brought it back into the spacious lounge, setting it down on the glass table. As if on perfect cue, he heard a tiny moan from the figure on the couch and knelt beside her as she started to stir.

He reached over and moved a vibrant curl off her forehead, letting it fall to the side where it joined the rest, all shifting as she turned her head a little, beginning to blink weakly.

"You're safe." He said quietly. He doubted she would take him at his word, but the offer of reassurance was there and he gave her a gentle smile that lacked his usual grinning ego. Even pale and weak with confusion, she was a stunningly beautiful woman.

"Where are we." She asked, her voice nearly breaking with strain, sending yet more guilt though Tony.

"A safe place." He said simply, not wanting to get her over exerted just yet. She suddenly pushed herself into a sitting position and Tony knew it would have been useless to try and stop her. Consequence came in the form of a dizzy spell that was bad enough for her to groan and place a hand on her temple, her slender fingers rubbing the skin gently.

"Take it easy." He urged, watching as she breathed through the dizzying wave.

"I-, we were- on the roof? And…. There was- a chopper?" She seemed to be struggling to connect the pieces of her mind. She turned to him, her eyes a lot clearer than they had been the moment she woke. "It was a gun helicopter, are you alright?"

If there was ever a moment for her to completely stun him, it was then. He had quite literally thrown her off his tower, one of the highest buildings in the entire city and she was asking if _he_ was okay. Perhaps she didn't remember the fall? But he supposed it would be a hard thing to forget.

"Natasha-"

"Oh I am still going to kill you." She informed him with a serious expression, proving that she remembered it all. "And in the most diabolical way I can think of. But I won't until I know you are okay."

Tony blinked in surprise as he studied her face. She was, an absolute master of deception. It was one of her greatest skills and he knew that, yet in that moment he could read her like an open book. The look on her face was one he wore on a constant basis, the one he used to convince the world of his own indifference when he was trying to hide the fact that he cared. She was perfecting the look, it was not weakened in any way, but Tony knew it well enough to see through the ruse.

"How are _you_ feeling?" He reversed the focus and lifted a hand to move away the shoulder of her robe, pleased that only a small patch of red was visible at the centre of her bandage.

"Fine." She said and she knew she was lying, though he wasn't brave enough to point that out.

"Look, Natasha-" He took a deep breath, his words failing him as they seemed to be doing more often around her. Thankfully she started to speak and saved him.

"I saw the guns on that chopper." She told him quietly. "I know that those bullets would have shredded me. You saved me, more times than I am comfortable with. I'm a little pissed that you threw me off a building, but I'm alive."

He smiled his thanks to her words and exhaled, moving up off his knees so he could sit beside her. She turned to that she was not perpendicular with him and he raised an eyebrow as she took in her surroundings, well aware of how her eyes moved to each possible exit, her mind no doubt contemplating possible escape routes. With a dramatic sigh he lifted his arm over her shoulders and gently nudged her to lean on him, still being surprised when she complied. As she rested her head against the crook of his neck, he in turn rested his head against hers. It was such a relaxed setting, after such a violently traumatic day.

"So what do we do now?" She asked quietly.

"I don't know." Tony wished he could give her convincing reassurance and the revenge she would have been so desperately seeking, revenge that he was now after himself, but he could not. "Whatever happens though, we're in this together."


	6. Overdue

**Warning for smut…. Oh yes.**

* * *

After Tony had fallen asleep, Natasha eased herself from under his arm and very slowly maneuvered to her feet, using the back of the couch for support. As tired and drained as she was, she knew she would not be falling asleep anytime soon. Ideally, she would have liked to scour the perimeter, to learn about their location and plot a possible scenario if they needed a sudden escape. Tony had said they were safe, but she could not simply take him at his word, too many years of trepidation lay behind her. For all she knew, there were more strike teams coming for them at that very second.

She was itching to get near a window and at least view her surroundings, but with her leg still threatening to reopen like her shoulder had, her movements needed to be exceptionally slow and gentle. It placed a higher priority on her shoulder wound and though the bleeding had slowed significantly, she knew it needed to be stitched before she made it any worse. It was easy for her to find the closest bathroom, though it took her a painfully long time to actually get in there, having to lean against the wall ever few feet to catch her breath.

It would have been easy to call Tony and ask for his help, but apart from the fact that she was capable of handling herself, she also wanted him to rest. She was no stranger to betrayal and danger, she looked for it every day, living a life of shadows. But Tony was out in the sun, in full view and after a day of action, she knew he would be tired. Iron Man was not an impotent superhero who stayed in the background, but mostly he was unneeded, it was the genius engineer that people sought after more often.

If there had been no medical supplies in the bathroom, Natasha would have had a fit, but thankfully she quickly found a case under the sink. It was unopened, not that she was surprised, but looked as though it had not been there very long. Everything in the house looked new and shiny, including the house itself, either Tony had revamped everything recently, or he had not had it for very long.

No needle and thread inside of course, common medical kits did not usually come with sets of stitches for bullet wounds. But, there was a tiny pair of scissors and a packet of safety pins.

"I've used worse." Natasha muttered humorously as she started to pull out what she needed, turning the dimmer for the light switch to full brightness in order to be able to see what she needed to do. Carefully, she used the scissors to snap the safety pins so that they were much smaller metal pins, less than a couple of centimetres long. With the aid of her teeth, she bit down on the end of each one and bent it so there was a smooth curve in them.

After another quick search through the cupboard, she located some dental floss and sighed, knowing everything from then on would be wildly unpleasant. She only needed four of the tiny resized pins, using a fifth as the actual sewing needle to bring each pin through her skin, attached with the dental thread. Instinct told her to close her eyes exhale sharply with each incision, but she needed to see what she was doing and she needed to keep as still as possible. The dental floss burned against her skin as it was pulled through but she tried her best to ignore it and eventually she had stitched all the pins across the wound.

She ran the cold tap in the sink and wet her hand to wipe away all the blood that had leaked out during the task. She had to admit, that considering the items she had been forced to use, it was some of her best work. It certainly wasn't the first time she had to stitch a wound up and in a pessimistic sort of way, she doubted it would be the last.

"So, this is what you do when you can't sleep?" She looked up to see Tony standing in the doorway, holding a bottle of alcohol.

"Seriously?" She inhaled through her teeth and raised her eyebrows at him, "Do you just manifest those from thin air?"

"I wish." He winked before taking a swig and handing it to her. She gritted her teeth and then poured some over her shoulder, gasping at the searing sensation of the alcohol sterilizing her work. Before the burning had even ceased, she took a drink for herself and forced her mind to focus on the burn that cascaded down her throat instead.

She handed it back without looking, her head dipped as her face contorted in strain. When she didn't feel him take the bottle back, she looked up to see him pulling a fresh bandage from the medical kit she had rifled through. His eyes slid over all the items that lay across the vanity unit and he picked up the packet of dental floss.

"Really." He said, the corners of his lips twitching. She wasn't too pleased about that. "Dental floss and safety pins? Aren't you a little MacGyver."

She didn't reply and moved her hair out of the way so he could put the bandage across her shoulder, taking another drink from the bottle before setting it aside. She was a little surprised as he spoke again and the joking had left his voice entirely.

"You could have gotten me to do this." He said, carefully pressing down the edges.

"Did you get your medical certificate at MIT?" She replied dryly, earning a light chuckle from him, even though his eyes remained serious and locked onto his task.

"No, but you shouldn't have to stitch up your own wounds. Even though you've probably done it before." He quickly added as she opened her mouth to point out that very fact. "At the very least, you should have told me where you were limping off to. I woke up and you were gone. Imagine my surprise ." She looked at him, noting the way his eyes did not move from her shoulder and his fingers continues to run along the edge of the bandage, even though it was securely in place.

"Were you worried about me?" There was a rare smirk bordering on the edge of her lips, but when he finally lifted his eyes to hers, that smirk disappeared instantly.

She did not know Tony Stark very well, she had read countless articles about him, including mission files from when she had needed to go undercover in his company. She had learned instantly that he was a pretentious egotistical twat, who got whatever he wanted no matter how it inconvenienced others. That was her first impression with him and normally her first impressions were exactly right. But what many people failed to realize, was that Tony Stark, was a master of deception. He stood in the spot light, a man with money, looks and of course he was a genius. He had it all. But there was a different side to him than most people were not aware of. Natasha had seen it a few times, like when he saved her from the strike team, when he helped the team take on an alien army. He was more than he appeared, so much more and it was in that moment as he looked at her with concern in his eyes, that she knew his mask was off.

"Tony…" She breathed, altogether stunned by the different person she was looking at. The _real_ Tony Stark was standing in the bathroom with her, a man that very few people had ever seen. She became aware of his fingers trailing from her shoulder to her neck, gently moving over her skin and up until they had cupped her cheek.

If she had time to stop him, or even to protest against the action that she knew was going to come next, she didn't think she would have. As he stepped towards her and brought his other hand to the base of her spine, she met his gaze, knowing what was happening and doing nothing against it. The kiss was so much gentler than the one he had given her on the roof, she remembered it of course but hadn't bothered it bring it up, not seeing the point. His lips which were hardly ever still with his incessant babbling, moved against hers as though they were made for them. It was soft, it was caring and it was perfectly loving. Everything Natasha hated.

Her uninjured arm snaked up around his shoulders and she dug her fingertips into the back of his neck, directing the kiss into a more forceful one. She received no complaint from him and allowed his tongue to pass through her lips as he asked for entrance, her hands sliding down to the hem of his shirt, tugging it up with clear indication. He lifted his arms and broke the kiss in order for her to pull his shirt off, giving her a full view of his arc reactor. She'd never really been able to focus on it up close, she was interested in it and one time he had explained how it worked, but she was still confounded with the concept of it.

Before the kiss could be reignited, she lifted her hand and traced gentle fingers around the rim of it, enchanted by the dazzling light that shone from it. She knew that without this, Tony would die, the metal pieces that travelled through his body would be drawn into his heart. She wondered what it was like to be dependent on such a thing, if it was her, she would constantly be paranoid that there was a fault or that it was vulnerable to sabotage. As she continued to run her fingers along the rim, his hand gently closed over hers and he kissed the tips of her fingers, when her eyes lifted she saw he was gazing at her.

"Most people are freaked out by it." He said softly and she saw that those reactions must have bothered him. "It is a gaping hole in my chest after all" The corners of his lips twitched into a smile, but it lacked the arrogance that she normally saw. That heartfelt, warm smile brought out one on her own lips, as though it was infectious and she saw something in Tony's eyes shift.

"You should smile more often." He told her, bringing his hands to cup both her cheeks.

"Maybe if I had a reason to-" She was cut off as he pressed his lips to hers and she was able to feel the smile that still crossed his. All that will power that she had managed to retain around him, was slipping away. Needs were needs, and right at that moment she was blatantly aware of how much her body was craving him. As though he was in her head and reading her thoughts, this kiss changed to lustful and impatient, something Natasha was far more familiar with. At the back of her mind, there was a tiny part that clung to the memory of the softer kiss, but she shut it off. That little voice came from the weaker part of her, the part that cared for people and accepted emotions. The only reason Natasha had managed to stay alive that long, was because she could lock that part away and pretend it did not exist.

She could feel the tension in his body, the way he was holding himself back and she could only imagine it was because he remained conscious of her injuries. They were coming into more familiar territory, -familiar for the both of them. Tony's reputation with women was well known and Natasha had a job to do, a job that always got done. The two of them depersonalized sex as though it was a handshake and she was very aware of this. To them, it was an act, a tool to get what was needed, with Tony it was the physical release and with Natasha, it was usually just information. If she needed her own physical release, she went out and got it, the same as Tony.

Realistically, if she considered everything in a logical sort of way then she should have realized that sex between them was long overdue. Both of them went out of their way to avoid emotional connection and used sex for sex, reading nothing further into it. They should have started fucking on the sidelines a long time ago. She knew how to work men, he knew how to work women, every kiss and every touch was thought out and instinctual at the same time, lustful hunger flaring with both of them.

Natasha gasped as he suddenly grabbed her hips and lifted her onto the edge of the porcelain vanity unit. His hand disappeared under the robe she still wore and she jerked as his skilful movements brought a hiss from her lips. She felt him chuckle against her lips and felt a wave of animalistic desire, her mind understanding the skill of this man and her body hungry to be a part of it. They were beyond any logical stopping point, her injuries had to take a back road as months of sexual tension finally boiled to the surface.

"Oh, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for this." He growled in her ear, his lips moving away from hers and tracing impatient kisses along her jaw.

"Shut up and fuck me Stark." She murmured in reply, her words were demanding, but her tone was playful. He chuckled again and his response was to slide a finger inside her, bringing out another hiss from her lips.

"Oh don't think so." He muttered happily and she looked into his eyes, her own were heavy lidded with lust and it was apparent in his as well, but she could see how much he was fighting to maintain his control of the situation. "No, I'm going to wait until you are begging for it."

"You son of a bitch-" Her words were cut off by her own moan as he slid another finger into her and she arched her back, closing her eyes for just a moment to enjoy the feeling. She was good at her work, that much could not be denied, her track record was very nearly perfect, but as with torture, she pulled her mind away when needing to perform her trade. It wasn't in that same way that people could go to their 'happy place', but it was very similar.

It was almost strange to actually be enjoying it, to _want_ to feel the fire within her. Her moans were no act, they were genuine and she realized that she had not even heard them for a long time. Her skills were deception always came into play when she worked, but she didn't have to use them with Tony, he had enough raw talent to bring out the pleasure she never let herself feel .

"I told you." He murmured in her ear, biting on her lobe as he used to his fingers to make her squirm. "I told you so many times that this would happen."

"You talk too much." Natasha replied, both loving and hating the feelings he was pushing through her. On a whim, she fluidly slid down to her knees, moving in a way that completely pulled herself out of his grip without him even being fully aware of it. The button of his jeans was nearly ripped off in her haste and in a mere second she had dropped his pants and boxers, taking his erection into her mouth without a moment of hesitation.

His groan was an aching one as his hands suddenly gripped the edge of the vanity and she could feel his hips straining, no doubt he was desperately trying not to thrust forward. It was her pride that drove her to this, to have her skills deemed almost useless as he decided to tease her. She would not let him have her so easy, she would not let him believe he could control her as simply as he did with others.

"Oh Christ Natasha…" He moaned as she drew his length all the way into her mouth, hearing the surprised tone in his words at how much she could actually take. She made a sort of purring noise, vibrating the back of her throat against his tip and she heard something close to a gasping noise from him, followed by a string of incoherent swearing. She flicked her tongue around his tip and laced him with saliva, she stared to pull him out slowly, nearly taking him completely out before rapidly plunging him back in.

She could feel the fire increasing between her legs, fuelled by the feel of his cock in her mouth, the taste of him and the size of him. She had never expected any different, rumours were rumours and she was definitely plugged into the grapevine.

"Fuck Natasha…" She chuckled at the sheer level of need in his voice, her throat vibrating again as she sucked and licked while continuing to bring him in and out of her mouth. One hand tangled in her hair and guided her in her movements. Almost shockingly, that point of control sent a warm feeling rushing through her lower body and she could feel how wet she was getting at the thought of him.

For the first time since she started to suck him off, she lifted her eyes and met his. She knew how to work her expression even while on such a task and she could see his face screaming with lust as he made eye contact with her.

"Fuck this." He growled, reaching down to grab her and not so gently yanking her back to her feet. He moved her to sit on the edge of the vanity again, spreading her legs with impatient hands, running his fingers over an area that was desperate for his touch. He groaned loudly at the feel of how wet she was and pulled her underwear off in a hurry, clearly not able hold out any longer.

"What happened to making me beg?" She asked as he all but tore the robe from her shoulders and unclipped her bra, tossing it to the side so he could close his mouth over her nipple. She gasped and moaned instantly, her hands grabbing at his shoulders, her hips jerking in their own desperation. Her mind was filled with desire but she still had some of her resolution. "Hmm Tony? What happened to that?"

His growl was nearly shocking as he suddenly took his straining erection and pushed it into her. She swore in Russian and moaned loudly, arching her back and pressing their chests together, able to feel the arc reactor against her skin.

"I thought I'd shut up and fuck you instead." He hissed, giving a thrust that caused her to hold onto him tightly, so she didn't fall back into the sink.

"Good plan." She muttered breathlessly, achingly wrapping her legs around his ass and locking her ankles behind him. The motion forced him deeper into her and they both groaned in unison.

"But I did fucking tell you this would happen." He chuckled, his hands moving to her ass to pull her to his as he thrusted in a rhythm that Natasha easily matched.

"Do you _ever_ stop talking?" She gasped, her back arching in a sudden rush as she felt him slam against that spot deep inside her. He was the biggest she'd had for a long time and she couldn't even remember the last time someone managed to touch her spot.

"Only when my mouth is busy." He replied with a heavily suggestive tone and gave a vicious thrust, clearly aware of what he had just done inside her. The image of Tony's head between her legs was nearly overwhelming, even as he brought her to such a pleasured point that she couldn't even feel the strain of her bullet wounds. "Say my name again." He suddenly ordered and Natasha wasn't even aware that he latest moan had been an understandable word. She didn't comply fast enough, her mind being too clouded with lust to concentrate on much else and as his relentless hips suddenly increased their pace, she couldn't manage a sound at all.

"I said," His voice dropped in tone and became demanding, one hand tangling in her long curly hair and tipping her head back with purposeful force, his lips harshly moving across her neck, "Say. My. Name."

She very nearly shouted it as the orgasm broke and she lost her hold on reality. Some part of her was aware of the way her name and a varied amount or curses suddenly left his lips, powerful climaxes rushing over them both and bringing their hips out of the structured rhythm to thrust insistently. She could do nothing but grip his shoulders tightly as he collapsed to his knees and brought her down with him, his hands clutching at her ass. Her head dropped to his shoulder and she just let herself breathe, her eyes open and focusing on the glow of the arc reactor, finding it strangely comforting.

"Holy fuck." He muttered after they had calmed down a bit, both shaking slightly with the afterglow of the orgasms.

"I'll say." Natasha replied, sucking in a deep breath and lifting her head, giving him a weary smile.

"I did tell you." He said again, with such a cocky look on his face that Natasha actually laughed. The cockiness turned to near shock and then he grinned proudly. "I knew I would make you laugh eventually."


	7. Trust and Safety

"Natasha? You should get some sleep." Tony came into the master bedroom to find what he expected, the house's other occupant posted as guard. She hadn't moved from the wide window ledge, leaning against the frame with her eyes locked into the tree line that began just outside the house. She had already explained that she did not think anyone would bother attacking from the front, it would be the sides or the back entrances. It was still dark and Tony couldn't see a damn thing outside the window, but he was willing to bet that her eyesight was bordering on legendary, even in the dark.

She hadn't let him turn on any lights, or at least lights of a room that had a window, so that nobody outside the house would even be aware that it was occupied. She had grilled him on the route he took, asking him over and over if he had been followed, if he had noticed any sort of tailing. It was hard to reassure her that she was safe and Tony knew there would be nothing he could say to put her mind at ease. He didn't know about her, but he was drained. His short sleep had given his body rest, but the act he had embarked on with Natasha had taken away any juice left in his batteries.

She was injured, she was panicked and he was damn well sure he had drained her as well, but she absolutely refused to sleep. She would never admit it, but she must have been a little fearful of the situation, or she didn't trust Tony to protect her. Logically, she shouldn't have been on guard at all, even if she saw danger approaching, there wasn't must she do other than hobble away from the window to get Tony. Her safety was in his hands entirely. But that didn't stop her sitting at the window, tightly gripping a knife that she had managed to find in the kitchen.

The house had the basic necessities in the way of dishes and bedding, but there was no food and even though there was a phone line, Natasha wouldn't let him use it. Besides, they had no one to call, they were waiting for Clint to resurface so that they could figure out how deep this whole betrayal situation went. If Tony and Natasha were in danger, then surely Clint would be too, possibly even the Captain and the Doc, if the purpose was to eliminate the entire team. At first they had assumed Natasha had been the target for the siege on the tower, but they had to conclude that a aerial chopper with heavy guns had not been meant for one little assassin. A hard hitting team had come to take down Iron Man, but they hadn't even stood a chance.

"Seriously Natasha. Sleep." He moved over to her perch when she completely ignored him, "I mean look, the bed's all made up and everything." He nudged her shoulder gently to try and get a reaction from her, but she remained completely serious.

"What if he's dead?" She asked suddenly, her voice blank and lifeless. Tony didn't need to ask who she was referring to, there were few lives that mattered to Natasha and Clint was definitely one of them. Tony eased himself down beside her, leaning on the opposite frame of the window box. She finally tore her eyes away from the tree line and locked them with his. She really was a beautiful woman, she could appear strong yet vulnerable at the same time and neither was an act of any kind.

"He's not dead." Tony told her, with a tone that showed he believed his own words.

"But how could you know?" She was quiet, clearly desperate for reassurance and yet he doubted he would be able to reassure her. Not until he had hard, indisputable evidence.

"Because," He leaned forward and fixed the top of her robe, trying not to notice the way it hugged her breasts in an insanely flattering way. "That man is a tough nut. They underestimated you and me, they will underestimate him too. I mean come on, he was kidnapped by an insane God and he came out the other end. He'll be fine." He believed what he was saying, but it was because he hoped it to be true. If anything happened to Clint, it would absolutely crush Natasha. And it would deliver a hard blow to the team, that was for sure. Clint had saved each of their lives in turn, he may not have been one of Tony's best friends, but he would be sad to see him go.

He watched Natasha's unbelieving eyes shift back to the trees and she sighed gently. "I'll go see if there is any word from JARVIS." Tony offered, receiving no answer from her. He stood and made his way back down stairs, hoping there would be good news to find. He was having trouble dealing with the whole situation, not even the danger part, but the occurrences between him and Natasha.

It was like they had never even had sex, as though they hadn't finally succumbed to what had been coming for months. Tony had never fucked a girl and then had them pretending it didn't happen, usually he had to shake them off his leg asthey begged for more. It was a point of professional pride that he had always left them wanting more, but everything had reversed and he was finding himself fixated on Natasha. To be honest, he thought that once they had done it, he would in fact be bored.

He wasn't the type to reuse and recycle, it was just one and done, a glorious shag and then he sprung for a taxi home. It should have been awkward, trapped in the house with her, but it really wasn't. Tony wasn't itching to get away like normal, there was no sneaking out before she woke, though she hadn't actually gone to sleep yet, so that was impossible. The whole situation was just, weird.

He grabbed his helmet and slid it on, dropping onto the leather couch that he had napped on previously. "Alright JARVIS, give me the good news." He said blandly, indicating he was not expecting any.

"Agent Barton is travelling to your present location."

Tony stood up instantly, "What? When did he come within range of your probes?"

"Half an hour ago sir. I have waited for you to return to the suit to inform you."

"I was busy." Tony cleared his throat, grinning at the images rolling through his mind which focused on the way he had Natasha moaning as he fucked her. "Is he alright? Is he injured?"

"No sir, he claims to be okay. Though he has mentioned he is in a situation similar to yours. And he is relentlessly asking about Agent Romanoff."

"Do you have a line with him?" Tony asked, already running up the stairs. He burst into the room with such drama that he had Natasha spinning toward him with the knife in her hand, ready for an attack. As soon as JARVIS patched Clint through from the phone he had nicked, Tony took off the helmet and placed it over Natasha's head, not bothering to explain as she wildly protested. She must have heard Clint's voice as she stilled and the knife was dropped to the floor.

"Oh, thank God." He heard her say, her voice muffled from behind the helmet. Tony dropped backwards on the bed, spreading his arms as he stared at the ceiling, thankful that Clint was alive. "No, I'm fine. Seriously fine. JARVIS told you I was injured? He's a computer programme Clint, I'm sitting here right now, absolutely fine. Yes, stop asking. I don't know, Tony thinks it's safe and he is adamant that he wasn't followed. Yes, that's what I said too. No he's actually behaving. No… he didn't throw me off a building, where are you getting your information? Well JARVIS must be confused then because he seems to be relaying false info to you. It will take you two hours? Okay, just hurry up and get here, safely."

Tony was sitting up and grinning at her by the time she had finished her conversation and removed the helmet. "Aren't you a devious little liar." He said, catching the helmet as she lightly tossed it to him.

"He'll only worry if he knows the truth." She said reasonably. "And if he finds out about _you_ throwing me from a building, he will lose it." There was something hidden behind her words, another point that she was not mentioning specifically. If Clint was to find out about his and Natasha's more intimate act, Tony was guessing he would be less than pleased. And he also believed that only Tony would bear the force of the archer's wrath, not her.

"He uh, he has a thing for you, doesn't he?" It was a pointless question, everybody assumed that Clint had something brewing for Natasha, but from what Tony could see, she did nothing to encourage it. She was not the typical minx, she did not openly lead men on, but they seemed to fall for her anyway. She just nodded in confirmation. "And how do you feel about that?"

Tony was asking if she reciprocated the feelings, he knew they were close but even he could not tell if she had a thing for Clint in return. However, she misunderstood his question and must have thought he meant how she felt about the whole situation in general.

"It's dangerous." She told him, her eyes locked onto her hands. "It has the ability to compromise missions." Tony understood what she was saying. Emotions made things tough, complicated everything, there was a reason that he kept his exchanges impersonal on purpose.

"That's why you and Clint have hardly been on any missions together for awhile." He moved away from the bed and dropped onto the window box beside her.

She didn't say anything, which was an answer in itself. In a moment that was instinctual and not thought out at all, Tony reached out and gently placed his hand over her fidgeting ones. She stopped her movements and looked up to meet his eyes. Usually, hers were blank and expressionless, but there was so much in them that it was overwhelming. Tony didn't trust himself to speak, normally he had every word possible that could fill any silence, but he did not know what to say in that moment. And so, he used actions, moving forward to pull her into a gentle hug.

She very nearly flinched, a sad action in itself considering she could stand in front of a gun and not even bat an eyelid, but as soon as someone showed any kindness to her, she was afraid. He wondered how many people had ever just hugged her. With no side strings attached, no hidden agendas, just hugged her because she needed a hug. Tony wasn't even the type to give hugs, not serious ones anyway.

"Do you trust me?" He asked quietly.

"Last time you asked me that question, it was a prelude to being thrown off a building." She remained still in his arms, but Tony did not release her.

"Yes, but I caught you." He pointed out, unable to stop the obvious smirk entering his voice.

"You did, but who is to say that you will ever catch me again?"

Tony closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her, smiling gently at the feel of her in his arms, even if she was not hugging him back. "How about this. If you ever fall again, I'll be there to catch you."

"Promise?" She asked after a moment.

"I promise." He agreed.

Slowly and hesitantly, he felt her arms snake around his waist. As soon as they did, he pulled her into his lap, turning her sideways so she could rest her head against his chest. They were tangled together in a way that Tony had never imagined would happen, considering when he pictured them together it was always in a physically intimate fashion. He gently kissed the top of her forehead and rubbed the arm that was around his chest. After a few minutes he looked down to see her eyes had closed and her breathing had slowed significantly. She had fallen asleep.


	8. Lonely Once Again

"Natasha." She stirred at the mention of her name, aware of it being spoken even while she clung to the last dregs of sleep. She really did not want to wake up, not because of any decent dream for once, but because even in her subconscious, she knew reality was boding trouble for her and the longer she could escape it, the better. But her body was being shaken gently and a familiar voice was whispering her name repeatedly. She finally accepted defeat and allowed her mind to reach the surface, blinking away the disorientation of the lasting sleep.

"There we go, you have finally come back." A cheerful sounding voice pulled her the last few steps and she glanced up to see Tony smiling down at her. She didn't speak for a moment, allowing her mind to process her surroundings and remind her of the situation.

"I fell asleep?" She asked pointlessly, shifting out of his grip to try and stand, somewhat unsteadily. She was aware of the way he eyed her carefully, no doubt judging whether to intervene or let her attempt the action on her own. To his credit, he allowed her to stand by herself, but she could see his hands twitching, preparing to steady her if necessary.

"Yeah, you finally got some rest." He stood up, placing an arm at the small of her back, trying to make it seem like a casual gesture, but she knew it was secretly to steady her. She raised an eyebrow but he pretended not to notice. "You should have been able to get a longer sleep, but JARVIS told me there is a car coming up the road that leads to the drive of this house. It's probably Arrow Man." Natasha glanced at the helmet in his other hand and tried not to imagine how odd it must have looked, her being curled up in Tony's arms, while he wore only the Iron Man helmet and none of the rest of the suit.

"It might not be Clint." Natasha said quietly, ever the pessimist. She bent to pick up the knife that she had dropped, somehow feeling significantly safer with a weapon in her hand. "Can you take me downstairs?" She asked, swallowing her pride. He nodded and moved his hand so it was wrapped around her waist, pausing to let her place her arm over his shoulder, before slowly leading her down to the ground floor.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, there was an impatient knock at the back door and Natasha exchanged a look with Tony, neither of them taking another step.

"Hey, it's me!" Natasha heard Clint shout in a hushed kind of way, as though he was trying to be loud and yet quiet at the same time. "It's pissing down out here, let me in already."

"What? It's not raining at the moment." Tony said, looking past her at the nearest window to confirm the lack of rain.

"It's code." Natasha tried to explain, giving him a nudge to help her to the door. "It means he wasn't followed. If he mentions the weather exactly how it is, then he knows someone is watching him. If he says he thinks it's going to rain, then he isn't a hundred percent sure if he was followed or not. But he would never come here if he thought he had a tail on him."

"Ah, right." Tony nodded to show he understood. "Do you spies ever just speak plainly?"

"Coming from the man who uses sarcasm or suggestive comments to mask just about everything?" Natasha replied, earning a simple grin and a wink from Tony, more or less proving her point. As he brought her closer to the door, she moved away from him, her injuries were going to look bad enough to Clint without her having to lean on somebody. Tony cleared his throat in protest, but didn't actually say anything, letting her go so she could open the door.

She could honestly say that she was thrilled to see Clint, even though she had been speaking with him and had already received confirmation that he was alive, she was only finally convinced when she could see him. He stepped inside almost immediately, quickly giving her a hug and squeezing her tighter than he probably would have if he knew the extent of her injuries.

"Good to see you Tash." He muttered, giving her a final squeeze before letting go and grabbing a large duffel bag that he had brought with him. "I had a tail, but I lost it. Ditched the car in the woods somewhere. You know for a safe house, this isn't so bad." He looked around at the hall decorum, giving an approving nod. As Natasha moved to shut the door, a flash of pain shot up her leg and the only indication she gave was a sharp inhale, but Clint narrowed his eyes, picking up on it immediately. It was then that he seemed to focus on her more, noting the bandage visible on her leg from under the robe, and her shoulder. Not to mention she was probably a general mess over the rest of her body.

"Tash-"

"I'm fine." She said hurriedly. Mostly everybody knew how she hated being fussed over and therefore did not make a fuss, but Clint was an exception and he always made a big deal about any of her injuries. He gave her a look that was very commanding, as though he was her superior and he was giving an order even though he didn't speak. He dropped to one knee and lifted the bottom of her robe, gently peeling away the bandage so he could see the wound.

"Did you stitch this up?" He asked, looking up at her. She shook her head and nodded toward Tony, who hadn't said a word and was also missing his characteristic smile. "Really Stark? I've seen monkeys do better jobs at stitching something up."

"Bite me." Tony replied, a hint of anger slipping into his voice. Natasha looked at him with confusion, but his eyes were locked onto Clint as he resealed the bandage and stood up, moving to her shoulder.

"Is this dental floss?" He asked when he had pulled away that bandage. When Natasha nodded he gave her a grin. "Then you _definitely _did this one. I recognize your knots." He seemed to be on a casual level with her being injured, but as he turned, Natasha saw the smile fall and sighed gently. It was all for her benefit, he was no doubt wildly pissed off that she had any injuries at all. He would grill her for information later, she was sure of that. He would want to know every detail so he could figure out who was at fault and then annihilate them. Natasha decided not to tell him about Tony compromising her with tracking chips.

"Brought you a gift." Clint said, grabbing the bag and holding it out to her. "Open it. From the look of you, I think it will make your day."

Natasha gave him a quizzical look but said nothing, unzipping the bag to find an assortment of items which were like a range of Christmas gifts in her current situation. "This is-"

"The pack you have had sitting at my house for nearly a year." Clint finished for her. "From what JARVIS told me, shit hit the fan and I guessed you would have nothing on you. I was right, wasn't I?"

Natasha nodded as she rifled through the contents, never having been so happy to see some fresh clothes. She pulled out a gun and quickly unloaded it, before reloading and giving a nod to herself. "How did you manage to get to your house? You said you were tailed, wouldn't there be someone waiting for you?"

"Yes, multiple someones. And now they are all stashed in my lounge. The carpet is ruined of course. There is just nothing that can completely remove bloodstains."

Natasha smiled and held out her arm to indicate she needed to lean on Clint. He moved to her faster than she could comprehend, picking up the bag with the hand that wasn't supporting her. "Shower time?" he asked, as though he could read her mind.

"God yes." She confirmed, turning to say something to Tony. Her open mouth had to shut when she saw he had disappeared, though she hadn't even noticed when he had left. "Okay, take me to the bathroom. Go straight then left, then straight, then right. I _really_ need a shower."

* * *

Tony sat on the window box where he had previously been holding a sleeping Natasha, now clutching the bottle of alcohol which had dropped a significant level in just a few minutes. Every swig brought out more anger toward the archer, anger that Tony knew was unfair and didn't make any sense. Why would he possibly be so angry at the sight of the man? Apart from the way he nearly tripped over in his haste to make sure Natasha was alright, or the way she was so focused on him that it was like Tony didn't exist, there was no reason for this sudden rage.

He took a deep drink, relishing the burn that had become familiar to him. A man who had everything. That was what they all called him. It was true, in a sense. Though there was a large part of him that felt he had nothing. If he truly had everything, then why did he feel so empty all of the time? No, not all of the time, recently he had felt fulfilled, as though his life meant something and he had a purpose. Helping Natasha, fixing her up, keeping her safe, safe enough that she actually allowed herself to fall asleep. That gave him a drive that he hadn't felt in a long time. But now Clint was there. And the alcohol became the thing that blurred Tony from the real world once again.

* * *

**Sorry for the horribly short chapter, life is getting the way and I only had time to write this, only had time to proof read it once, no doubt there is some terrible mistakes. **


	9. Not One Scratch

Tony awoke with the familiar acidic taste in his mouth, he didn't even have to open his eyes to know that the bottle he clutched was empty, he had made a good run of drinking the entire thing. There was darkness beyond his closed eyelids and he was in no rush to open them, aware that a headache would make itself known the moment he did. It was so easy for him to forget what was happening, to mask it with alcohol, but all the details came crashing back as he slowly became aware of his surroundings more and more. His plan was to remain in whatever fucked up position he had fallen asleep in and just wait out the hangover that threatened to consume him.

It was rare for Tony to get a hangover, frankly he could win awards for how much he could handle his alcohol. No doubt his liver was in terrible shape, but considering he lived a life that brought guns to his face, his liver was really the least of his problems. He only received the headache and the nausea when the drinking was mixed with low pointed feelings, he would never actually say he was depressed, but sometimes he wondered why a psychiatrist would say if he let them assess him.

A groan left his lips as he opened his eyes a sliver and then shut them almost immediately. There was no bright lights to aggravate him, but it still hurt somehow. He waited maybe ten minutes before trying again, putting a little more effort into it. The room was empty of course, it was just him, sitting in a cramped position against the window box. He stood, cursing anything and everything at the pain that shot through his head. Somehow he made it to the adjoining bathroom and managed to splash some water on his face. It helped, a little, but when he glanced at the mirror, he realized how far gone he was.

_His eyes were blood shot and had a slight shading under them, normally the sign of what Tony would call a 'good night out'. He ran a hand along his chin, noting the visible stubble that had sprung up. Tony was known for being neat and tidy, he ran in high circles that demanded it and he was always clean shaven. It was a point of pride that he maintained his physical appearance and yet as he looked at himself in the mirror, he realized he could not care less in that moment. He rinsed his mouth out several times, spitting out the lingering taste of alcohol, one that never really left his mouth._

_The headache was still there, but he must have been getting used to them since he barely noticed the throbbing unless he moved too fast. With a tight grip on the side rail, he made his way down the stairs, hearing noises coming from the lounge room. _

_"I don't understand, what is this show about?" That was Natasha, she sounded fine, albeit a little confused. Tony stopped by the door, not exactly __spying__, but just eavesdropping a little. And he knew that if he got caught, he would be in for it._

_"I told you, rips in time. They appear randomly and these guys have to deal with it." Clint was using an impatient tone that Tony knew was fake, he never seemed to lose his patience with Natasha._

_"Right. Who is that guy? He seems relatable."_

_"That is Captain Becker. Note the shotgun, he treats it like his best friend." Tony heard Clint laugh at his own attempt of a joke. "Remind you of Steve by any chance?"_

_"Yeah, a little. I think it's the muscles and the title. And maybe the complete lack of a smile in general situations. Steve doesn't use shotguns though. So let me get this straight. That guy, Captain Becker, he has a thing for the receptionist, uh… Jess, is that her name?"_

_"Yeah, you're on to it Nat. And Conner is with Abby. Sort of. The romance between those two is like a soap opera."_

_"They'll get together." Tony heard Natasha sounding damn sure of herself, strange considering they were watching a T.V show. "It's in their body language. He loves her."_

_"You ruin everything, you know that Nat?" Clint scoffed and Tony was sure he heard a cushion being tossed, but he had no idea by who. "You always ruin my shows by telling me how they end."_

_Tony chose that moment to step around the corner and even though he made little noise, both assassin's picked up on the sounds of his footsteps. Tony glanced at the flat screen T.V mounted on the wall and saw the programme they were watching, but he didn't recognize it. _

_"What's this about?" He asked casually, as if he had not just been listening in. _

_"It's called Primeval." Natasha told him as Clint looked back to the screen. "It's about anomalies, I think-" She looked at Clint who gave her a nod of confirmation. "- holes in time that creatures are able to get through into modern day London. Clint is trying to match us to the characters of their team. So far we only agree on the fact that Becker and Steve are the same."_

_Tony looked at the screen as a golden light appeared in what looked like broken shards and all the people in the show adorned shocked expressions. He moved around and sat beside Natasha, __fully__ aware of Clint's eyes carefully watching how close he sat to the injured assassin. "Who would I be then?" He asked casually. Natasha gave him a searching look but he knew it wasn't as she considered the answer, she was assessing him like she always did. Her eyes flicked to his hair, then to his stubble, then to his eyes. She would be aware of how messy he looked and she would read into it further than he was comfortable with._

_"Conner." Clint said, his eyes moving back to the screen. "He's the tech expert. He designs the systems for the ARC and the mobile detectors." Tony looked to the screen as Clint pointed and saw who he must have been referring to, since the person was at a computer, their fingers flying over the keys. _

_"He's also a sarcastic little shit." Natasha muttered under her breath and when Tony glanced at her, he saw the corners of her lips twitch. _

_"Right." Tony said, his mood improving slightly. "And you Natasha? Who would you be?"_

_Natasha and Clint exchanged a look that Tony didn't understand the meaning of, or if there even was one. Those two could communicate without words, maybe they were actually just tossing up a conversation regarding the answer. Even thought they were silent, Tony had the strange feeling they were arguing. It seemed outlandish, as though they were actually using telepathy or some other method, but he could see Natasha getting frustrated and Clint's facial expressions were changing rapidly. _

_Finally Natasha looked back to Tony and rolled her eyes so that Clint could not see. _

_"Did you just roll you eyes?" Clint adorned a teacher-like voice, reprimanding a snarky student. Natasha just flicked her hand behind her and punched him in the arm. The motion obviously caused her pain, judging by the way she flinched and slumped her shoulders, her face going white in an instant. Tony and Clint were both suddenly beside her, each asking if she was hurt and how bad the pain was. They fussed over her in a way that was dangerous, even Tony could see how weak they made her seem, or at least how weak she would __think__ they made her seem._

_"Stop- Stop!" She lifted her hands to push away theirs, looking between them with a furious expression. "Just stop it!" She looked wild, her eyes alone held a warning that should have sent both of the men running. It was insulting to her, they way they so hurriedly rushed to her side to make sure she was okay. Clint had been with her for more dangerous missions that Tony would even be able to comprehend, he knew how much she could handle and he still worried. Tony had seen her in that elevator, barely able to stand as her own blood was smeared against the walls. The thought of that was horrific, he never wanted to see her like that again. And so they fussed, angering the one person that nobody ever wanted to anger. _

_In a instantly decided moment, she suddenly stood up and as both Tony and Clint reached for her, she stepped from their range of grip and turned to face them. "If either of you try and steady me, I will break your fingers." There was a hint of absolution in her tone, it was clear that she meant the threat._

_It was only then that Tony noticed what she was wearing, lose fitting track pants with a black tank top, both emblazoned with the SHIELD logo. He recognized the gear, it was what she wore in the training room, unless she was on an intense workout, in which case all her clothing was exceptionally tight. Tony had stopped in to view a few of __those __particular workouts. She had her flaming curls tied up in a ponytail and Tony realized that he preferred it down. It was only a moment later that he had another realization and that was about the fact that he didn't have the right to have any preference about her appearance at all._

_Still, he couldn't help imagining tangling his hand in her hair while engaging in rather amorous activities. He watched her as she made her way from the room, her knuckles white as she used the wall for support. He didn't know where she was headed and he wanted to follow her, but he valued his fingers. _

_"Right." Clint stood up, capturing Tony's attention. "I'm going for food. Watch her with your life. And if she has one scratch on her when I come back, all the money in the world isn't going to save you." Tony ignored the threat as though it hadn't been spoken at all, standing as well._

_"I've got the suit, I'll make the run." He argued. But Clint shook his head earnestly._

_"You're too easy to spot. One person sees you and this whole place is compromised. I'll go. I won't be as fast, but I'll be more subtle." Even though it was all logical and Tony could see that, he couldn't help but be aware of the degrading way it seems to be said, as if Clint was trying to insult him. The two had never got on, not really and Tony was beginning to like him less and less, the feeling appeared to be mutual. There was a part of him that wanted to give Clint details about what he and Natasha had done, maybe explain how good it had felt to have the legendary assassin coming undone in his arms. But he held his tongue, knowing how furious Natasha would be._

_"You go then." He nodded to the archer. "I'll __look after__ Natasha." There was obvious suggestive hinting in his tone and when Clint snapped his head back toward him, it was clear he had gotten the message. Tony just smirked as Clint walked toward him, glaring daggers with his eyes._

_"One scratch." Clint hissed, pointing his finger at Tony's arc reactor, keeping their eyes locked together. "One scratch on her, one __hair __out of __place__ and you will have me to deal with."_

_"Oh, don't worry." Tony winked, un-intimidated. "She's in __good hands__." It was obvious that Clint wanted to say something, perhaps he was hoping that Tony was just being his usual sarcastic narcissistic self. That was true, for the most part. Tony would have said something similar to try and aggravate Clint, even if he had not been fucking Natasha previously, without the archers knowledge. Clint glared at Tony, before turning and walking out of the room, pausing only to pick up his bow and sling the quiver onto his back. Tony hadn't even noticed it when he arrived, he wondered if he had stashed it in the bag he brought Natasha._

_Tony felt a wave of inadequacy, for all his wealth and intelligence, he had not been able to provide anything like that for Natasha. It should have all been reversed, Clint should have been the one to stitch her up and make sure she was safe, Tony should have brought her __things. __That's what he did, gave people __things__. Not moral support, not safety. As he heard the door shut and feet crunching on gravel, rapidly increasing their pace, he moved out of the room in search of Natasha. _

_He was a little shocked when he realized she wasn't on the first floor and figured out she must have made it up the stairs by herself. He cursed himself for not going after her, she was stubborn enough to injure herself while trying to make a point and he hoped that hadn't happened. He took the stairs two at a time, calling out her name with a voice that couldn't hide his worry. He found her in the master bedroom, sitting on the window box that seemed to be their resting place. She was holding up the empty bottle that had been an equivalent to a teddy bear for Tony as he slept._

_"Thanks for sharing." She muttered, tossing him the bottle. He caught it by pure reflex and dropped it on the bed, moving to sit beside her._

_"Arrow Man has gone for food." He told her, rubbing his face with both hands and then running them through his hair, ruffling it._

_"I know." She said, picking at the hem of her tank top. "We were discussing it earlier. I heard the door close." There was a bitterness in her voice that was confusing Tony, why shouldn't she be happy that food was on its way, she needed to eat and she was probably starving._

_"Natasha. What is it?" He asked, looking to her as she stared blankly across the room. "You don't need to worry about Barton, he may be a dick, but he's competent. He'll be fine. Even if he has to run for miles. He's enough of a douche to be able to handle it." He grinned when his open insults brought out a kind of defeated laugh from her. It sounded sad, but at least it was something._

_"No it's not that." She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "I just- I feel so- __Useless__." She almost spat the word, as if it was highly degrading for her. Tony didn't need to ask what she meant, she could barely walk without aid and it was obvious that she was pushing herself just to make it seem like she wasn't weak. Of course Tony would __never__ see her that way, she was the strongest person he knew. But, she could hardly walk and that meant she was at a high disadvantage if it came to a fight. She couldn't possibly be the one to make a run for food, so it was like she was left out of everything._

_Tony watched her for a moment, trying to not to think about how much he had just been __watching__ her lately. She was stunningly attractive, even in such casual clothing with her injuries evident. Maybe there was something wrong with him, lusting after an injured assassin, did that make him sick? Probably. Most of the things in his mind were probably considered sick. Considering how he was calculating how much sex he could have with her before the archer returned. As his pants started to tighten he casually crossed his legs and placed a gentle arm over Natasha's shoulders._

_"You aren't useless." He said calmly, counting it as a win when she didn't pull away. She continued to stare at the wall though, as if she hadn't even heard him. "Natasha, look at me." His other hand moved to her chin and gently turned her head so she was looking at him. "You aren't useless. No, don't give me that look. You aren't." He ignored her unbelieving expression. "Oh and by the way, if you try and make it up the stairs by yourself again, I will throw you over my shoulder and keep you there."_

_She narrowed her eyes, clearly trying to figure out how serious he was. "Go on, try and call my bluff." He said with a completely blank expression. She searched him, making him feel as though she was looking directly into his soul. He hoped not, it wouldn't exactly be a good view. He moved his hand to tug a loose curl behind her ear, smiling at the feel of her skin. Before he even knew what he was doing, he leaned forward and sealed his lips with hers. He didn't know what he expected, but it certainly wasn't a firm hand pushing him away. _

_When he met her eyes again, he was almost shocked at how rage filled they were. "Stop." She hissed, beginning to use that word a lot with him. "I'm not one of your whores Tony."_

_"What!" He exclaimed, the shock definitely filling him. "I-"_

_"I won't spread my legs if you snap your fingers." There was a look on her face that screamed danger and Tony's instincts were screaming at him to get away before he received a few broken bones. But he had never listened to his instincts, which was why he always found himself in troubling situations. _

_"Natasha-" He was cut off as she tried to stand but he moved with her, faster than her only because of her injuries. On any other day, she would have been across the room before he had even stood. He wrapped his arms around her as she took a step, locking his wrists behind her the moment she began to struggle. He was beyond the dangerous territory now, he had pretty much loaded a bullet into her gun and written his name on it. "Natasha- stop- struggling-Natasha-" He couldn't believe how strong she was, she should be weak and frail, though he would never voice such a thing out loud. But, it was nearly impossible to maintain his grip around her._

_He was about to lose, she was too damn good at getting out of those sorts of holds and she wouldn't be worried about injuring herself further, whereas Tony was. He quickly used his foot to knock out her legs and both of them went down to their knees, still struggling to gain control. Tony broke the way his wrists were locked and kept one hand at her back, the other moving to the back of her head to get a better hold. The muscles on his arms were bulging, the veins becoming more prominent he didn't think he would ever have to use such strength with her, he didn't think he would ever __need __to._

_He kept her head held against his, their cheeks crushing together and he could her ragged breathing in his ear. He gritted his teeth, nearly losing his hold but after a few minutes of perseverance, she stilled. He continued to hold her, well aware of her deviance and knowing it could be a trick, but when he heard the way her breath was shaking, he loosened his grip just a little, worried he was constricting her breathing._

_He was shocked as her hands snaked around his shoulders, gripping the back of his shirt as her head dropped to his shoulder. He didn't move, thankful she couldn't see how wide his eyes were, though she could probably feel how fast his heart was beating. He gently stroked her hair as she began to shake, her small body trembling in his arms._

_"It's okay." He whispered, "It's going to be okay." He didn't know how, but he would make it all okay, for her. _


	10. A Stunning Smile

Natasha could barely focus on her current surroundings as she recalled her most recent failure. She wasn't a person who made many mistakes and she prided herself on that, so when she admitted that she had been wrong, it was a big deal. She could clearly remember the moment when an agent under her training –with her approval for field work- had turned on her. She could remember the look in his eyes, one of pure determination as he raised his gun and aimed straight for her head. There had been no hesitation from him before he pulled the trigger, he knew her and knew what she was capable of, therefore anything like monologing would have given her a chance to react.

But she was faster than he could ever imagine, even after working with her every day, she knew her skill had still surprised him. As soon as she realized his intention, she had aimed a kick for the gun and sent it spinning from his hands. But they were not the only ones that had been in that alley and bullets had rained down the second that it looked like she had the upper edge. It was a miracle for her to get out of there alive and she had been tailed of course, the hacked tracking chips in her guns were almost her downfall.

She should absolutely hate Tony for that, he had very nearly gotten her killed and only sheer skill ensured she had remained alive. If not for the tracking chips, she would have got away cleanly and would have been able to safely return to the states, instead of being met with a hail of gunfire from people who knew exactly where she was. And yet, though he was indirectly responsible for her injuries, she was clutching at the back of his shirt as though he was her life line. She was dry eyed and there was no sobbing, but she could feel her body shaking, trying to deal with a wave of multiple things at ones.

She hated feeling useless, she was always part of the action no matter how dangerous it all was. Hiding from an enemy was not exactly an unfamiliar concept, but most of the other times she had been able to assist, now she could do nothing but limp a few steps before it became too much. The more she pushed herself, the more she risked permanent damage and she could not allow that. Even with her stubbornness and pride, she knew how far she could go before healing would be an issue.

"Natasha, it's alright." Tony said gently, his arm around her tightened, keeping her against his chest. She breathed in his scent as she rested her head against his shoulder, it was a strong male one that was mixed with a heavy amount of alcohol, as it usually was with him. She could feel the adrenaline pumping through her body, bringing an accelerated heart rate and quickened breathing, almost to the point of hyperventilating. It was his presence that slightly calmed her down as a panic attack tried to take full hold, the smell of him, the sound of his voice, the feel of him holding her tightly and securely.

"Just take a deep breath." He murmured encouragingly in her ear. She complied, but felt her chest tighten as breathing became a struggle for her, the panic attack was coming even as much as she tried to fight it. She clutched him desperately as she felt a wave of disorientation, the lack of oxygen causing an effect with the rest of her body, her breathing falling to short gasps. "Shhh, it's okay." He whispered, holding her impossibly tighter, creating a source of focus to direct her through the attack. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so weak, she was ashamed of showing that side of her to someone, especially someone like Tony.

He held her until it had passed and the shaking had stopped. Admittedly, she really did not want to let go of Tony, even though she had succumbed to a panic attack in his embrace, it had also been overwhelmingly calming to be held by him.

The first thing she noticed when her heart stopped pounding in her ears, was the glow of the arc reactor. Strange that it was coming from the side, and not directly in front of her, like it had been previously. Only then did she open her eyes and glance up in confusion. She did not recall when Tony had pulled her onto his lap, but he was sitting with his legs straight, his back resting against the wall, still holding her tightly as she perched at an angle.

"Just take it easy." He said gently, obviously aware of her coming to her senses. He did not relinquish his hold and she was thankful, though she would never have been able to put that into words, her stubbornness would not have allowed it. Being in his arms was starting to become too comfortable, apart from the physical comfort, she was finding solace in his presence. That was the first step to emotional connection, something she had been running from her entire life.

Emotions made you weak, they brought you down and Natasha could not afford to be compromised in such a way. Physical injuries were healable, but emotions could scar you, especially if those emotions revolved around a certain playboy, known for his trail of broken hearts. She could hear the steady rhythm inside his chest, her ear was almost directly over his heart and she closed her eyes again to listen to the sound. It shouldn't have given her the amount of peace that it did, her mind was flaring warnings to her, she was bordering on dangerous territory, letting her guard down.

* * *

Tony would never have been able to explain how amazing it was to have Natasha in his arms. He knew that she did not trust him fully, he doubted there was a single person in the world that could ever gain Natasha's full trust, no matter how long she knew them or how many times they had saved her life. If anything, that was proven by recent events, by having her agent turn on her. And so, knowing that trust would be harder for her than ever, Tony could understand the significance of letting him wrap his arms around her.

Her panic attack had lasted for a couple of minutes, Tony had only waited for thirty seconds before maneuvering her so she was in his lap, her head gently held against his chest. She hadn't even seemed to notice, her eyes had been shut tightly, her face pale and contorted with strain as her chest heaved as she tried to fight against hyperventilating, failing immensely. Tony understood what it felt like to feel responsible for things that were beyond control, to feel like a failure even when everybody around disagreed.

Not for a second did he think that Natasha was to blame for any of this and yet he knew she would be blaming herself. It was such a natural reaction to this situation that he expected it fully and there would be nothing that he could say that would change anything. So it would be his actions that made a difference and he was sure he was succeeding as he felt the tension leave her body, but she remained in his embrace.

"Feel better?" He asked, resting his chin on the top of her head. He tried not to notice the softness of her hair, or the scent of her in his nostrils. That sort of thing would only lead his mind down a path that was completely inappropriate for the current situation. On a whim, her pressed his lips to her hair and felt her whole body grow tense before she relaxed once again.

"Yes." She said quietly, her voice shaking ever so slightly. Tony pretended not to notice and he certainly didn't comment on it. He gently rubbed her arm with one of his hands, trying to make the motions reassuring, as if telling her that he was there by gentle movements. Her understood she would be working through some heavy emotional turmoil, he was well aware that she projected a calmness in her normal state that hid the depth of her being. She was not a robot, though many claimed she was a stone cold killer, he had seen glimpses of that fabled emotion.

"Do you know what I thought of you, the first time I met you?" He was good at certain things and distraction was definitely one of them. If she needed to be distracted from the chaos within her, then he had a few methods that he could offer her. Conversation was certainly the most polite, even if he preferred some of the others, which involved a complete lack of clothes and maybe some cuffs.

"You said I was an old soul." She said after a moment. Tony smiled, remembering their interaction as though it was yesterday.

"I did say that." He admitted, "And I stand by it. But what I was really thinking, was something along the lines of, 'that chick can fight better than the man who is supposed to be teaching me.'"

"Miss Potts was… not pleased." Natasha said, taking another short moment before she answered. Tony almost sighed with relief, it had always been difficult for him to engage Natasha in conversation. Small talk was easy, they both used it to deflect people away, but anything deeper was something she didn't seem to enter into. "She certainly did not approve of me at first."

"Uh, for good reason." Tony grinned, giving Natasha a pointed nudge. "You were an assassin posing as an assistant." Without warning, his tone grew solemn as well as his mood, his entire face dropping as he entered into one of his serious moments. "You knew I was dying. When I asked you for advice, the night of my party. You knew that I wasn't just asking in a general way, but because it really was going to be my last birthday. Do you remember what you said?"

Natasha answered straight away, not hesitating this time, but her words were spoken softly and Tony _swore_ he could detect just a hint of emotion. "You asked, what I would do if it was my last birthday. And I said I would do whatever I wanted to, with whoever I wanted to do it with." Tony smiled softly and rested his cheek against her flaming locks. He hadn't realized before, but there was a mirror across the room that was at the perfect angle to show the reflection of them.

"Before the… drama, that party was one of my best." Tony said with an un-modest shrug. His eyes were locked to the reflection of her and he saw the ghost of a smile. She looked so relaxed with her eyes closed, seemingly concentrating on something. Tony was surprised as he realized it was his heart beat, which increased in pace with the revelation.

"I…have been to _worse_ parties." Natasha told him, more or less agreeing with him in her own roundabout mysterious way. "Though technically I was working that night. As an assistant I was your guest, as an agent, I was on duty."

"You were having fun." He said almost accusingly, not believing her rationalization for a moment. "I saw you enjoying yourself. It was the first time I saw you smile. I mean _really_ smile. Not pretending to be happy, not to try and convince everyone that things are alright. It was a stunning smile too. I haven't seen it since that night."

"There hasn't been occasion to use it." She said, with a tone of indifference as if it was an accessory she only pulled out when she needed it.

"I accept your challenge." He said and saw her eyes flick open in the reflection of the mirror.

"What challenge?" She asked, tilting her head to look up at him. Tony had to force himself not to shift his eyes to her chest where the angles were perfect for a stunning view. But when he looked into her eyes he was hit with her raw beauty and frankly that view was just as powerful.

"The challenge to bring that smile back." He said, flashing her one of his most dazzling grins. As he expected, it had no visible effect on her. She was not like any woman he had ever met before, she could withstand his charms for many reasons, one being that she had certain charms of her own. She didn't use them on him, he had never been at the other end of her feminine wiles, yet there was still something about her that drew him in. He wondered what it was, because in general, she was a mystery to him. The biggest thing that set her apart from every other woman he had 'known' was a key factor to that mystery. Tony was certainly not a recycler and it was a singe use only with his female companions.

But Natasha was different , Tony wanted her again and he was not known as a man to give up easily.

* * *

**Hmmm. So, I hit a total mind blank while I was writing this, hence the lack of story progression and an bit of fluff, suggested by my sister. This ship is growing on me more and more, it's great to know there actually other shippers for these two. **


	11. Just Feel

**Ah, I don't want to ruin it, but I kind of have to give a warning for some sexy time. **

* * *

Tony was not invincible, though there were many that claimed he was. The tabloids, the fans. Just about every person that had met him or knew of Iron Man, assumed that he could simply not die. He had been kidnapped, tortured, sustained an injury that quite literally changed his life and survived. But he was certainly capable of dying. He just tried not to show it. He was seen as the arrogant reckless one, with no respect for himself, or others. But that wasn't quite true. He was the strong one. It just wasn't seen that way.

And so, he covered this inner strength with sarcasm and arrogance. He used his status to fuel this image of him, even though it was false in almost every way. Yes he had the money, the looks, the intelligence. But about 90 percent of it was put to morally positive uses. Countless charities had received substantial anonymous checks from Tony's personal bank account. Not from Stark Industries. Heart foundations were constantly being funded from his own pocket, without anybody knowing the source.

He didn't want the credit. That wasn't why he did it. But the Tony Stark that the world knew, was the pompous fool who only cared about himself. It was a mask as much as Iron Man was. He wore it. He got out of bed and put it on as if it was just another suit.

It was the _real_ Tony Stark that gently held Natasha as she found the calmness to actually fall asleep once again. It was the _real_ Tony Stark that carefully lifted her in his arms and carried her over to the bed in the centre of the room. Just because she was an assassin that was tough as nails and able to sleep on concrete if the occasion called for it, didn't mean that she didn't deserve a comfortable rest in a proper bed.

He watched her, perhaps longer that should have been allowed, stretched out beside her with his eyes darting over her face. Tony was known as a man who didn't take notice of anything or anyone unless he was involved directly. But this was not true, he was aware of everything. He was aware of how serene her face looked as she finally relaxed into sleep. He was aware of the slowed but steady movement of her chest as she breathed in and out. He was aware of the way her lips were ever so slightly parted, their full shape giving view of the very tips of straight white teeth.

Tony had kissed those lips, he remembered the feel, he remembered the taste of her. On complete impulse, like everything else he did, he reached out and traced a gentle finger along the curve of her top lip, not thinking of the repercussions. She woke of course, he knew with absolute certainty that she would be one hell of a light sleeper. She had too much danger in her life to ever just relax, her mind would always be expecting an attack.

Her eyes opened slowly, almost sleepily, though he could see she was instantly alert. He almost cringed, half expecting an attack, a punishment for touching the Sleeping Beauty while she rested. Tony's finger moved from her lips to cup her cheek with his hand. He waited just a moment, preparing for the multiple broken bones that he knew she was capable of giving. He moved his gaze from her lips to her eyes and saw that as much as it was the _real_ Tony Stark gazing at her, it was the _real_ Natasha Romanoff gazing back.

Somehow they had caught each other in a shared moment when the masks had been put away. He could see _everything_ in her eyes, when usually he could only see a forced wall, or what she wanted to portray. He opened his mouth to speak, no doubt to ruin the moment like he always did. Her hand moved to his face and he expected her to be putting a finger to his lips, a clear sign to tell him to shut up. He would have complied for once. It would have been the one time the command actually worked.

But her hand mimicked his and cupped his cheek, her unveiled eyes darting across his face as her thumb gently stroked his stubble. He did actually think about his next action. It was not made on impulse, or on a whim. He considered the negative points thoroughly in the space of a second and could only conclude that the positives were far outweighing. He moved slowly, in an effort not to scare her, or rather since she did not scare easy, maybe it was to give himself time to avoid an attack if it was launched.

He kept his gaze in hers until the last possible moment and only closed his eyes when his lips had finally met hers. The moment he initiated the kiss, he could feel her returning it. There was no kick to the groin, no broken jaw, only the raw emotion that he could feel her portraying. He was on top of her in a flash, one of his thighs in between her legs, both of his hands cupping her face. The kiss became heated, almost desperate, but somehow, it was still soft. He could feel her hands running up over the muscles in his arms until they reached the back of his neck. She clutched him almost as desperately as he clutched her, as though they were both afraid the other would stop the moment.

Tony knew it was wrong, his morality saw it as one hell of a sin and yet every other part of him was all for it. He broke the kiss but did not move his lips away from her, kissing down her cheek and neck as she pulled at the top of his shirt, tugging pointedly. He took just a moment to focus on her breathing in his ear, noting how laboured it was, not quite gasping, but at least panting. He nearly ripped his shirt off and the moment he was bare chested, he saw her eyes flick down to the arc reactor.

To a lot of woman, Tony was an achievement. They wanted him, all of them did and if they were lucky enough to get him, they could brag about sleeping with a billionaire and a superhero. But the reactor made them uneasy. He saw it in their eyes, they considered it freakish and by extension, considered him a freak. But there was none of that in Natasha's eyes, nothing but soft emotion as she traced a gentle finger around the rim. And he realized, that not once had she ever given any indication that she gave a shit about his money, his celebrity status, anything that he could offer the world.

After months of flirting with her, of coming on to her in just about every way possible, it had been the moments when his mask was off that she finally succumbed. She accepted who he _really_ was, showing only impatience for his mask. Tony had never really had acceptance of himself, only of what he portrayed to the world.

He closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, forcing her to flatten her palm against his chest when the gap disappeared. He kissed her with a hunger that she returned with just as much power, both of their bodies moving against the other with a desperate need. His hands seemed to work on their own as he pulled off her shirt, having to separate their lips to complete the act. He had to lift her slightly and before he let her back down, he gently pulled the elastic band out of her hair. The flaming curls cascaded around her shoulders in a beautiful way, far more stunning than when they were tied up. Tony had not seen her hair that long since she had 'worked' for him, when SHIELD had placed her close to him to keep tabs.

She was unbuckling his jeans before he could even try for her track pants and the kiss was resumed the moment they were free of everything but their underwear. Tony tangled one hand into her vibrant curls, grinding his hips against hers in an effort to make her gasp. He succeeded over and over, until it was clear that neither of them could stand it anymore. With practiced hands, Tony slid one hand behind her to undo her bra. An action that he had completed many, _many_ times, on varied styled garments.

And he couldn't do it.

He was close to swearing as his fingers fumbled with the clasp, unable to find the hook even though it didn't appear to be designed any differently from the countless he had undone with a flick of his fingers. He could feel her smiling against his lips, causing him to growl with warning. He heard her chuckle and very nearly ripped the damn thing off. He was stopped by a calming hand on his cheek and felt her other one complete the task he was trying to achieve. He pulled her bra away the moment he could, his hand moving to cup one of her breasts, running his thumb over her already erect nipple.

She jerked under him, sending a wave of satisfaction and triumph through him. He smirked and kissed down her chest, sucking and licking her nipple. He almost groaned as she arched her back, essentially pushing her breast into his mouth. He bit down playfully and moved one of his hands to hers, interlocking their fingers and moving it so he could place it beside her head, using it as leverage to grind against her harder. It was a combined effort to take the rest of their underwear off with their free hands, leaving them both naked and panting for each other.

Tony was inside her before he could even stop himself, pushing apart her thighs with a rough hand, though entering her was nothing but gentle. He positioned himself carefully and them pushed in, slowly, but not stopping until her tight wet heat had enveloped him completely. He groaned when he was fully inside her, moving almost experimentally and not only feeling an immense amount of delicious friction, but also hearing a gasp of delight from her. Both things were enough to bring an immediate thrust from him.

He tightened the gip he had on her hand, his other moving to grab her thigh with just as much force. Sometimes he was a rough lover, sometimes he was playful. But at that moment, with himself fully enveloped by a legendary assassin, he wanted to be something he had never really been. Gentle. He kissed her softly as he moved, his thrusts were neither desperate nor demanding, only substantially more caring than Tony had ever been.

The moved in tandem, perfectly synchronized as if they had done this a thousand times and knew all the steps. He wondered if she was as new to this 'gentle' love making as he was, it was not the rough sex that he knew and imagined her to know too. It was the complete opposite of when he had fucked her against the bathroom sink. It wasn't what they wanted, it was what they _needed_. He could smell her scent in his nostrils, the oh-so-familiar scent of sex was already filling the air, engulfing them both as they moved. But he could still smell _her_. She smelled so innocent, though he knew she was everything but. In the same way that he skin felt too soft for her to be the combat master that he had seen her to be.

He moved his hand from her thigh and tangled it in her hair once again. He couldn't remember if he had ever told her how much he loved the look of those flaming curls, if he did, it was most likely added to a cheesy advance that insinuated she should promptly get naked. He was such a pig to her, expecting her to conform and give him what he wanted. Frankly he was glad that she hadn't for so long, that she had ignored those advances. She was worth more than a couple of filthy pick up lines.

Her moans were beautiful, so soft and genuine, not filled with a desperate begging. They were gentle and spilling over with emotion, as though he was giving her a gift she'd never had, or never bothered to look for. He wanted to remember this moment, not file it away carelessly like all of his other times with women. Tony never forgot anything. Not a single thing, but there was a lot that he chose not to think about. Usually because it was emotionally damaging and hard to deal with. But also because it was simply not a memory worth keeping.

But this, what he was doing to her, the way he was making her moan and writhe under him, this was worth holding on to. He opened his eyes to see her, to see her beautiful face contorted with pleasure, to see her eyes shut tightly and her lips parted, letting out those wondrous sounds. The moment Tony had laid his eyes on her, he had been attracted to her. There had been an instant physical desire for her, to have her under him, on top of him, to have her from behind, to have her any damn way Tony wanted. But he had never considered this way.

How could he not? There was something perfect in the moment, it was Tony and Natasha, not Stark, not agent Romanoff, not Iron Man and not the Black Widow. They were naked in every sense of the word, giving to each other and taking nothing.

"Natasha." He said softly, speaking for the first time since she had fallen asleep in his arms. He didn't stop the slow movements of his hips as her eyes flicked open and met his. He saw what he wanted to see, what he _needed_ to see –her allowing herself to come undone. There was no performance, no acting, they were themselves entirely. He held her gaze wordlessly as he increased his pace, feeling her hips move perfectly with his. He pressed his forehead to hers and thrusted sharply, feeling the pleasure knot in his stomach, his eyes snapping shut.

The combined gasp and moan that came from her, was something close to a soft cry and Tony nearly folded the second he heard it. No other woman had come close to undoing him the way she did and she wasn't even showing the desperation that the others did. But maybe that was it, maybe it was key that he was just not attracted to woman throwing themselves at him. Maybe he was maturing. Maybe it was just her. Maybe she was what he had needed all along.

It didn't matter how he tried to reason it, they way her body moved was pure bliss to him and he did not have a chance to even try to hold himself back as he found his release, all but slamming his hips into her in startling contrast to the extreme softness he had been showing previously. He was hardly aware of her crescendo of cries, only vaguely aware of the way she moaned his name, all he could focus on was the feeling of power as he came inside her and felt her join him. Her muscles spasmd around his jerking cock and if he had been standing, he knew there would have been no way to remain upright.

It was only after they had finally stilled and their breathing had returned to a gentle pace, that Tony realized how tightly he had tangled his hand into her hair. No doubt he was hurting her, but she made no indication, her free hand was wrapped around his shoulders, though he had no idea when she put it there and her other hand was still trapped in his grip. He moved his lips to her neck, pressing them against her jugular and just pausing to smile at the softness of her skin that would always enchant him.

Oh he knew it was a bad idea and yet that hadn't stopped him. And not for a second did he regret it, or believe he would eventually come to regret it. No, this was a memory that was seared into his brain and there was absolutely no way that he was going to let go of it.

* * *

**Mhmmm. So a lot of feels there. Thanks for the reviews so far, it's great to know how I am going. Probably a softer side of Tony that any of you is happy with. Which is a shame, but bear in mind that I like a healthy balance in life and if there is a lot of softness, then angst must quickly follow….**


	12. Just A Game

Natasha had made a few bad calls in her life and those moments were always replayed at a later point to torment her mind. She relived her mistakes constantly, even though she was well aware that nothing could change the past. But sleeping with Tony, giving in, letting him see past her shielding walls, she wasn't yet sure if it was a mistake or not. As he held her, she could feel the tension release from his body. They became opposites as if his tension was flowing into her. As he calmed, she became more alert, as he finally fell asleep with his arm draped over her, her eyes could not have been any wider, her body could not have been any more rigid.

What the hell was she doing? Why was she letting this happen? It didn't make any sense, her mind was awash with confusing feelings and imagined scenarios. _Come on Romanoff._ She thought with furrowed brows. _You are better than this._ She was, she was better than some cheap fuck with a man who didn't even have a habit of learning the names of the women he slept with. She tried not to point out to herself, that the men she slept with usually didn't even know her real name anyway.

With fluid grace she eased herself out from under his arm and slowly stood up, trying not to move the bed. She looked back to Tony who was stretched out on his stomach, one arm resting under his face and the other at the angle it had been when wrapped around Natasha. From this view, she could not see the arc reactor in his chest, he looked like an entirely normal man. He wasn't Iron Man like this, he wasn't even the genius billionaire, he was just Tony. She smiled softly at the thought of how being naked physically could make you naked in every other aspect.

She liked him like this, when she could forget his place and his role in the world. Just like at the same time she could forget about the blood on her hands, the anarchy of her life and what promised to be a painful death that came sooner rather than later. She took a second, to just enjoy the normality of the situation. Until she remembered what a fool she was and was propelled to her feet. How could she let herself do that? How could she let the emotions fight to the surface? She was so much stronger than that and yet she had folded to his will so easily.

She picked up her clothes, wincing at the slight pain in her leg as she moved but she had to admit that she was healing well. The pain felt clean, there was no infection and she could tell this without having to check, she'd had that many wounds over her life that she just knew. She slowly moved to the bathroom door at the side of the room, careful not to over exert herself, knowing that a time may come when she needed to run on her leg and while that was not an issue, she was going to take it slow.

The shower was large enough for three people and the water pressure was beyond glorious. She turned the temperature up as high as possible, sticking her head straight under and praying her skin wasn't going to peel off with the heat. She sighed gently, rinsing her long curls under the heavy spray and trying to bring back the images of what could possibly be the best sex she'd ever had. She refused to let that thought cross her mind, it was pushing, trying to tell her how much she had enjoyed herself but she couldn't let it. She knew of Tony's reputation, she knew of the messes he made in his efforts to get what he wanted.

She was now just another number, another notch to add to his belt and she couldn't think any differently. Her eyes shut tightly as she washed herself, there was no soap or shampoo but the pressure of the water was powerful enough to make her feel like she was getting a thorough wash anyway. She tried to keep her mind focused on logical things, planning and scheming to help their situation, but she kept drifting back to the intense feeling that Tony had brought out in her. She could feel her body relaxing as she remembered the sex and no doubt her face would have been flushed if the water hadn't been making her cheeks pink anyway.

She couldn't let herself go down that path, she refused to let herself _feel_. She knew men like Tony, she knew plenty of them and she was well aware that they could say and do anything to make women fall at their feet. Her eyes snapped open as she heard a soft noise, something like a door shutting and then quiet footsteps shuffling straight after. Two options entered her mind, enemies with automatic rifles or Clint returning. She was not sure which would be the worst.

She shut the water off and stepped out, grabbing a towel from the rail, drying herself as quickly as possible. It wasn't quick enough. There was no gunfire and no bullets that started to tear the place apart, but she did hear Clint start to yell accusingly and a few seconds later heard Tony reply with just as much swearing in his words. Few things could scare Natasha or make her want to run from the scene, but Clint's jealousy was definitely one of them. It wasn't as though she was actually afraid of him, she knew he would never hurt her and she wasn't exactly defenceless, it was just the emotional side of everything that made her want to cringe.

She dressed as fast as her injuries could let her, trying to hear what they were saying which was surprisingly difficult considering how loudly they had started to yell. She yanked her pants on, gritting her teeth to completely ignore the lasting pain in her leg and quickly manoeuvred into her bra, nearly ripping her tank top in her haste to dress fast. She limped to the door and threw it open, ready to yell at the arguing men. Her voice died in her throat as she saw Clint had Tony up against the wall, his elbow to his throat even as he continued to throw insults at him. To Tony's credit, he did not look intimidated in the slightest, even though he was half naked with only a sheet clutched around his waist.

Clint was slightly shorter, but his body language screamed rage and yet Tony was glaring back with as much malice. Clint had the upper hand, it was plainly obvious considering his skills in hand to hand and Tony's complete lack of them. But the billionaire did not seem as if he cared about that, Natasha could see he was not going to back down. Anger was fuelling them both and no doubt they were going to destroy each other.

"Let him go." Natasha said loudly, but calmer than any of them. "Now."

Clint looked to her, though Tony's eyes stayed on the man who was almost strangling him. Other than turning his head, Clint did not move.

"I _said,_ let him go." Natasha repeated, her fists balling in her effort to retain her own anger.

Clint looked furious and she had seen him like this before, she knew how dangerous he could be. She could see the betrayal in his eyes and guilt slammed into her, but she refused to show it. They had bigger enemies at that moment and they could not afford to be fighting with each other.

"How could you be so stupid." Clint all but snarled, surprising Natasha. He turned toward her and gave her his full focus, removing his elbow from Tony's throat. He took a few steps toward her but she stood her ground, bullets could not intimidate her and she was not about to let her partner do it either.

"Stupid?" Natasha repeated, she was offended and it showed in her tone.

"STUPID!" He confirmed, yelling at her even though she could hear him fine and he knew it. She could see him shaking and had to rethink her previous thought, it seemed she had never seen him this angry. It concerned her, he was unpredictable and she wasn't sure which way the whole situation was going to go.

"Hey!" Tony yelled, "Lay off her!"

Natasha was not a damsel in distress and she did not need Tony to defend her, not to mention it would only make everything worse. As Clint scowled and turned back to Tony, Natasha grabbed his arm to keep his attention on her. An assassin was an assassin, she knew he wouldn't hurt her, but she could believe that Tony was not in the same boat. He stiffened as she touched him and paused for a second before shaking her off so violently that she actually lost her footing and would have fallen backwards if the wall was not right behind her.

She saw the flash of regret in his eyes as he watched her fall against the wall, taking a moment to regain her balance. But it was replaced by his anger and his scowl remained. He reached into his pocket and Natasha froze, her first thought was that he was going for a weapon. She knew he had seen her reaction and for a moment he almost looked hurt. But he just pulled his hand out and brought an envelope with him. He tossed it on the floor and her eyes flicked down to see it had a four digit number on the front.

Clint turned and started to walk away without another word and she instantly moved after him, by reflex she grabbed his shoulder to stop him from leaving. Without even turning toward her, he pushed her roughly at an angle that caused her to fall and this time there was no wall to catch her. She went down hard, her injured leg unable to snatch back her balance and she let out a breath as her back slammed into the ground, winding her. It was a shameful moment for her, even while wounded she should have been able to roll or fall strategically to stop any sort of pain on impact, but the whole situation was messing with her head and her body seemed to be responding slower than usual.

It was Tony's face that appeared above her, his dark eyes full of concern as his free hand slid under her back to pull her into a sitting position. Natasha knew that Clint was no longer in the room and she cringed when she heard the back door slam shut. Her breathing came in short gasps, it had been a long time since she was careless enough to let herself get winded and her fists balled as she desperately tried to steady her breathing. She was aware of Tony rubbing gentle circles on her back, which helped with calming her down and also evening her breathing. Neither of them spoke for a long while even after she could breathe properly again, there was nothing to say.

Natasha moved away from Tony and picked up the envelope, recognizing the numbers as if they were her own name, which in a way, they were.

"What does that mean?" Tony asked quietly, moving to kneel beside her. He didn't touch her again and Natasha was glad, she could not have promised that she wouldn't have broken his hand if he tried.

"Essentially, it says Romanoff." Natasha explained, peeling open the sealed backing to pull out a sheet of paper with hastily scrawled columns of numbers.

"More damn codes. Right?" Tony muttered and Natasha simply nodded. "Well, what does all this say?"

"Give me a minute." Natasha murmured, her eyes darting over the digits, her mind trying to make sense of what appeared to be randomly placed numbers. Clint's harsh words and angry expression were all she could think about, even as much as she tried to focus. She did not realize she was shaking until Tony closed a gentle hand over her fingers and took the letter from her, placing it on the ground.

"Just take a breather." He instructed, but she shook her head.

"I'm fine." She insisted. The last thing she needed was to break the dam of emotions that threatened to well up inside her. She needed to be strong, she needed to focus. She could not afford to be weak. Tony stood up and left the room, saying nothing of his purpose but she understood when he returned with a pen and a blank sheet of paper.

"Here." He said, handing both to her. "Break the code Superstar." Natasha could have smiled, in times when she was feeling overwhelmed, she used certain tasks to ease her mind and whether Tony knew this or not, it was focus that she needed. She pushed Clint from her mind and started to write down the words that the numbers corresponded to, only then realizing how long it had been since she had to do this. It took her almost fifteen minutes, but when she was finished she knew that her skills were as sharp as ever.

Tony was reading over her shoulder, but she knew that even though it had all been deciphered, he wouldn't be able to make much sense of it. "Translation please." He said, confirming her theory.

"Do you want the good news, or the bad news?" She asked, and was not surprised when he opted for the good news first. "There has been a complete restructure of SHIELD, with maybe a dozen moles being flushed out." She looked over at Tony, realizing she had forgotten that he was dressed only in a loose bed sheet that was held around his waist with one hand. He nodded and his eyes lifted from the paper to meet hers.

"And the bad news?"

Natasha took a deep breath and let out a gentle sigh. "The person who wrote this message, doesn't think that all the moles were discovered. But they want us to come back. If there are lasting double agents then we need to make them think they won't be caught and that we are letting our guard down."

She waited for Tony to digest this information and was almost pleased when he asked the question she was expecting. "How do you know that it wasn't a double agent who wrote this message, in an attempt to bring you out of hiding." She could have laughed if the situation wasn't so serious. For all Tony's comments about spies, he would have made a good one, he certainly thought like one.

"The person who wrote this is one of the few people in the agency that I trust." Natasha explained, "In the event that I lose contact, they monitor the situation and leave an instructional message in a location that is known to only them, Clint and I. This is not the first time I have needed to go into hiding. Clint would have checked for this information when he made the food run." She dropped her gaze when she mentioned her partner and how he had risked his life breaking hiding, only to come back and find she had betrayed him.

"Hey." Tony brought her eyes back up and she saw how serious he looked. "He does not _own_ you. He has no say in what you do. Just because he saved your life at one point, doesn't mean he gets to control you from then on." Natasha could see the logic in his words but frankly did not want to get into a discussion about her inner feelings with someone like Tony. She stood fluidly and looked at Tony as he did as well.

"This is not up for discussion." She said, letting him know that she was not willing to talk about it. "If it had happened one time, I would say it was a one off. But it will not be happening any more times. Understand?" Tony opened his mouth to argue but she glared at him. To her surprise, he did not conform to her glare.

"Natasha, don't be like this." He said, taking a step forward. She held up her hand to keep him at a certain distance but gently took her wrist and pulled it to the side, his other hand placed at her waist to pull her against him. She had to admit, it was a smooth move, he made it so that the sheet was being held up by their closeness, if she stepped away, it would fall to the floor. "What do you think this all was?"

"I think it was a weak moment." She said curtly and saw his face change, almost seeming sad. She expected him to pull himself together and to adorn a stronger expression, but it stayed vulnerable. The look in his eyes softened her body posture and she stopped trying to move away, but he did not relax his grip on her.

"You don't think that." He said calmly, keeping her close to him. "You enjoyed it."

"It was just sex Tony." She reasoned.

"No, it was more and you know it."

She had to wonder if he went into this much effort with all the women he bedded. There must have been a hundred different strategies in his mind, a hundred different games to play, each specific for a different type of personality. She hated that the game he was playing was working, that she was letting herself feel relaxed in his presence and the sex wasn't exactly leaving her mind. Just a game. She knew it was just a game, nothing more. But that thought didn't stop her responding when he suddenly kissed her, his hand moving from her wrist to the back of neck. Knowing it was a game did not change the way her hands moved to clutch at his bare shoulders, running over the smooth muscles of his arms.

It was just a game, she had to think that way because as much as she believed there was no alternative, she was afraid there would be. Tony Stark did not fall for women, they fell for him. She refused to fall, she could not let herself and she would fight against the warmth that spread through her body whenever he kissed her, because she knew it was just a game, that he was just playing her.

Just a game. It was just a game…. Or was it?


	13. Jealousy

**Okay so, a few point of view changes in this one and some slight time leaps, but hopefully not to confusing.**

* * *

It was easy for Tony to forget about the danger they were in. He always had some kind of animosity pointed at him, he was always living on the edge and though he was more cautious than anybody gave him credit for, he was used to all but ignoring danger. So he would have preferred to stay with Natasha in their hidden location, just awhile longer. To spend some time with the woman beneath the assassin outfit –and not necessarily just without her clothes. Though that image was definitely running through his mind frequently. No, he wanted to know more about the real Natasha. The trouble was, she didn't seem to want to give him that information.

And she took the lead in returning to the world, she wanted to leave so he had no choice but to leave with her. She had flatly refused his insistence of putting on the suit and simply flying them back, she warned him that there were still enemies and they needed to be careful. Tony's method would certainly attract attention, something they did not need. And so he was forced to compact the suit into something of a briefcase shape, somehow managing to fit it into the duffel bag that Clint had brought Natasha, having to remove the clothes and weapons first.

Tony waited as Natasha loaded herself up with contents from the bag, hiding weapons in places that seemed impossible. When she was finished, Tony could only see the shape of a single gun from under her coat and only because he had seen her put it there. Other than that, she looked completely innocent. Except for the determination in her eyes. They had a long walk in front of them if flying was not an option and Tony was concerned about her injuries. But he had enough sense not to openly state that.

It had been slow going, but they made it down the road that led directly from the house. It took them close to an hour; their pace was snail-like considering Natasha's leg and the weight of the bag that Tony had slung over his shoulder. He'd kept his arm around her waist, aiding her as they walked and thankfully she didn't shake him off. There was a farm house a few miles up the main road and after a quick scope, it was discovered no one was home. A Nissan Navara sat down the side of the house and Tony watched as Natasha disabled the GPS and hotwired it, all in less than a minute.

He intervened when she tried to climb into the driver seat. So far he had said nothing about her injuries and limits, but the walk had taken a strain on her, he was seeing more pain in her face than she was probably aware of showing.

"No way. You ride shotgun." He instructed, helping her around to the other side of the vehicle and urging her to climb inside. "The last thing we need is you crashing." He added a joke about the stereotype of woman drivers and received a weak smile from her. She was paler than she had been at Tony's place and she was pushing herself. He was surprised when she didn't complain and he moved back around to slide behind the wheel.

He could still not say that he knew her very well, but he understood the way that she refused to acknowledge her limits unless anyone did it for her. She would not relinquish such things like driving the truck unless Tony had given her no choice. It was her pride and of course she was certainly stubborn.

They had been driving for about ten minutes when Tony looked over at Natasha to make another joke. Until then it had been silent between them, though not awkward or uncomfortable. When he took his eyes from the road and diverted them to her, he saw her slumped and leaning against the door, obviously asleep. The sight made Tony smile, before their life threatening endeavour, he had rarely seen her relaxed and never with her guard down, it was something he didn't think he would ever get used to. She looked almost peaceful, the way she was hunched over, even in her sleep she was protecting herself by moving into a ball.

Tony placed his eyes back in front of him to ensure they didn't crash into an oncoming vehicle, though he had only seen two others during the drive so that seemed unlikely. Still, it would have been poetic for them to escape a fully armed strike team, only to end up in a violent crash of twisted metal. Tony chuckled a little at his own morbid thoughts and pressed harder on the accelerator, not slowing until he finally located a service station.

Natasha only awoke as he parked their stolen truck on the side of the road, she flicked her head up and looked around as though they were under attack, her hand reaching beneath her coat to no doubt grasp one of her hidden guns. Tony acted as though that sort of reaction was entirely normal, letting the vehicle idle until the engine turned off and silence encompassed them.

"Where are we?" Natasha asked, rubbing her eyes as she sat up straighter, glancing at the service station on the side road. "How long have we been driving?"

"Close to an hour." Tony told her, getting out and shutting his door before moving around the other side as she opened her door. When she started to get out, he held up a hand to stop her. "Whoa. No. I don't think so Speed Racer. You stay here and protect the car."

"Protect the car?" She replied, raising an eyebrow. "Are you kidding me?"

"Absolutely not." Tony said with a condescending smile. "I need you here, to protect the car. I'll just be a minute." Before she could argue, he shut the door and walked away, knowing that if he turned back around, she would be giving him the death glare. He tried not to think about the fact that she would have seen him as treating her like a child and that she had probably killed people for doing less. But regardless, Tony was looking out for her, whether she saw it or not.

If he was going to piss her off by making sure she didn't over reach her limits, then fine. An angry Natasha was better than a gravely injured one.

* * *

Natasha was initially furious at Tony's treatment of her, but it fizzled out rather quickly as she leaned back in her seat and felt the warm sun that was beating through the windscreen. A lot had happened recently and even though he could push all her buttons sometimes, she had to admit that as of late, he had been there for her.

She knew Tony, or thought she had, or knew the kind of men like him at least, but she was wondering if all her starting judgements had been wrong. He had done nothing but try to help her, when he had plenty of chances to simply take off. Tony didn't need her, Natasha was injured and he had the suit, he could be across the world and hiding in luxury at the blink of an eye. But he had stayed with her and tried to help her. She felt a slight wave of rare guilt at how she continued to push him away and get angry when he did something that was only in her best interests.

She caught movement in her peripheral vision and turned her head to see Tony coming back to the car, carrying two takeaway coffees and a brown paper bag that seemed to be almost overloaded. He just grinned at her until he had gone around the truck and awkwardly managed to open the driver door. Natasha could have helped him, his arms were clearly full and yet she just gave him a small smile as she watched him struggle. In her mind it was a payback for making her wait in the truck.

He eventually let himself in and gave her a momentarily glare of reprimand before handing her one of the coffees and putting the bag between them.

"If all food proprietors were women, I would eat free in any location in the entire world." He winked at her, his grin returning as he seemed rather proud of himself. "It took maybe 1.5 minutes of flirting with her, a light touch to the shoulder and bingo, free food."

A sudden hot rage flooded through Natasha, though unlike anything she had experienced for a very long time and as intense as the feeling was, her confusion seemed stronger. Was she… was she jealous? She cast the thought aside as fast as it had arisen, Natasha Romanoff did not get jealous of anything or anybody, certainly not some service station attendee who'd only had Tony's attention for less than two minutes. And yet, as she looked back to the automatic doors of the building, she had half a mind to waltz in there and strangle a particular someone.

"Natasha? You alright?" Tony brought her focus back to him, but her eyes dropped to the coffee in her hand and refused to meet his.

"Yes." She said curtly. "Just drive." Whatever was going on between her and Tony was too confusing for her to understand. For too long her emotions had been bottled up and now that she might have use of them, they seemed foreign and unfamiliar. She was aware of Tony hesitating before repeating the action of hotwiring that she had previously showed him. He seemed to want to say something and she was thankful that he didn't. Her mind was a mess as it was and whatever he could come up with would only add to her internal anarchy.

* * *

Tony hadn't said a word for the rest of the drive, every time he looked over, there had been a shadow across Natasha's face that warned him to stay silent. Even as they finally reached the base and he once again made the attempt to help her, the look she had given him was enough to stop him in his tracks. He was forced to let the waiting agents take her, though he felt anger flare at their assistance, they way they seemed too official and lacked anything gentle.

Tony couldn't understand what he had done wrong, she had been warming to him, slowly of course but he was aware of her gradually letting him in. For the rest of the 6 hour drive, he had gone over every possible reason he could think of for her sudden animosity. The leading theory was what he had said about flirting with the woman at the station. But, Natasha was certainly not the type of person to react in such a way to a comment like that. He had made countless jokes in that regard before, things that she was within her rights to smack him for. So he couldn't understand why she would be so hostile over what had been a rather tame comment in comparison to many of his others.

Tony understood women well, but Natasha was definitely a whole other ball game. He eventually had to concede that she was more exhausted than he was. The drive had taken a lot out of him, not to mention the rest of the situation they were in and by the time he had been pulled into one of SHIELD's debriefing rooms, he was a little more than agitated. They grilled him, perhaps more than they ever had, interrogators were sent in to get his side of the story and Tony complied for the most part. He added more snarky and sarcastic comments that he usually would have, blaming it on how tired he was, but he gave them most of the information they wanted.

He left out certain activities that he and Natasha had engaged in while hiding, it wasn't that he was trying to keep it a secret or that he thought she would want him to, it was the fact that it really was not any of SHIELD's business. Besides, he doubted they would expect something like that to happen and if he had informed them, they no doubt would have thought it was another one of his dirty insinuations.

Only after they seemed to be satisfied with what he gave them, Tony decided it was his turn for some answers. The agents were not pleased with the way he demanded to be filled in, but they had no reason not to explain what was going on. Tony learned his entire tower had been taken over by SHIELD, at least while they completed their investigation. Apparently they knew that JARVIS had been completely hacked even though the AI wasn't even aware of it. Tony was given no choice but to remain on the base, where there were undoubtedly several remaining double agents who would be very interested to kill him.

But the plan was to pretend as if the thought the moles were gone. Acting suspicious would be perfect, even if they _truly_ believed the moles were gone, SHIELD would be wide eyed and wary for awhile. So frankly even Tony was aware that things were going to be crazy for the foreseeable future. He was given a set of quarters to stay in while at the base, surprisingly his suit was not taken away from him as he expected, they seemed to be making sure he didn't think he was a prisoner. Every time he asked someone about Natasha, they hinted that she was still being debriefed and wouldn't be out for awhile. That pissed Tony off; she needed medical attention, not an interrogation. But, there didn't appear to be anything he could do about it and she wouldn't appreciate him storming into the middle of the debrief to carry her through to the medical lab.

Tony could do nothing but wait, unsure of how else to proceed. The quarters assigned to him were tiny and had little more than a room with a bed and an adjoining bathroom. Nearly everything was black and emblazoned with SHIELD logos. "As if I could possibly forget where I am." He muttered sarcastically to thin air as he walked into the bathroom and headed straight to the shower. The water was hot and the pressure was good, so he ceased his internal complaints momentarily.

As far as he was concerned, he was still responsible for Natasha, even though all senses of logic pointed the other way. They were not safe at the base, if they believed the idea of more double agents and while Tony could not personally vouch for her current well being, he was going to worry. After the shower Tony found clothes in the drawers of the room, conveniently his size but sporting the logos that he truly did not want to wear. But, he either pulled on the SHIELD owned muscle singlet and tack pants, or her put on the Iron Man suit, or he adorned his ever favourite, birthday suit. He groaned to himself as he conformed to SHIELD regulations and put on the clothes that had been provided. He felt almost dirtier than if he had put on his unclean clothes from before the shower. It was strange how perfectly the new clothes fitted. As though they were tailored to his specific measurements. It unsettled him more than it should have.

He forced himself to sit on the bed and wait patiently, though he failed immensely and two minutes later he was up and strolling through the labyrinth of halls to find the medical lab. He had spent so much time at the base after Stark Industries and SHIELD had started to function together, but not once had he been to the medical labs and it took him a while to find them. If Natasha was not there, then he was going to march straight up to Fury and have a complete tantrum.

He heard her before he saw her, she was arguing loud enough to make him smile. The moment he pushed open the main doors to the medical area, he could hear her voicing her protests.

"No don't reset the stitches, they're fine!.… Dental floss is not inadequate!…. If you give me morphine, I will end you!"

Tony approached the curtain that had been drawn around her bed and waited on the other side until she finally got fed up with the medical professionals and all but ordered them to leave. Only then did Tony move around the curtain and walk up to the side of her bed. He was disconcerted at how exhausted she looked, far worse than him but at least she didn't seem to be in much pain.

"You are the worse patient in history." Tony said with a smile. That wasn't quite what he wanted to say, he wanted to let her know how good it was to see her, to ask her how she felt. But as usual it was a joke that came through his lips instead.

"I know. I've been told." She said blandly, shifting into a more comfortable sitting position. Tony noticed she was wearing SHIELD clothes similar to his and her hair was damp again, she had obviously had a shower, but he couldn't believe how tired she looked. He had seen her napping the past few days, but never actually sleeping. She needed her rest and that much was obvious, she clearly needed food but while she had drunk the coffee he got for her, she hadn't touched any of the pastries and the food that Clint had brought back was forgotten in their haste to leave. At least she didn't seem to be angry at him anymore and he almost wondered if he had imagined it entirely. Maybe she had just been tired.

"So, how are you feeling?" Tony asked when a silence fell between them.

"Lousy." She said, gently rubbing her shoulder. "But I'll live. Maybe." Tony noted she looked distracted, as though something was on her mind and weighing heavily. She also hadn't looked him in the eyes since he arrived, but he wasn't sure if that was just another exhaustion factor. God dam this woman was a mystery. He could see her zoning in and out, as if she was close to sleep but trying to run from it. He wondered how safe she felt, if she felt safe at all even though she was back in her own organization. Previously people of that same organization had tried to kill her, could she even sleep knowing they might be in the building?

"Do you want me to go?" Tony asked casually. He wanted her to sleep and didn't know if she would while he was there. Her hand shot out to grab his wrist, holding him in place even though he hadn't tried to move away.

"No, stay." She said calmly, though when her eyes finally lifted to meet his, he saw she was anything but calm. If he didn't know any better, he would have said she was afraid. He understood, she didn't know who to trust but at least she seemed to trust him. Tony sat down in one of the closest chairs available, shifting it towards the bed a little more. During the action, Natasha didn't remove her hold on his wrist, she only let go when he made it clear he wasn't going anywhere. Her eyes were studying him as though she was a small animal caught in a trap and he had come to free her. It was as if she was hoping that he was not a foe, but her instinct was telling her to trust no one.

The situation should have rapidly progressed to awkward, but Tony didn't feel it. The silence was annoying him though, she was not much of a talker, but he certainly was. To his mild surprise, she spoke before he did.

"Joining our club now?" She asked, nodding to the logos on his clothes. "Have you been taught the secret handshake yet?" She was straight faced as she spoke, but caused Tony to break out into a wide grin.

"I'm sorry, did you just make a joke?" He teased, earning a light scowl from her, though he knew it wasn't filled with any malice.

"Never mind, I won't try it again." She said with a deadpan tone which made Tony smile even wider.

"Hey don't give up, your dream of becoming a comedian is not over." Tony leaved forward and rested his elbows on the side of her bed. "We could be a duo. I'll make the jokes while you throw knives at the apple on my head. See I know you won't miss. You'll hit the target every time."

"And who says the apple will be my target?" She raised an eyebrow and Tony saw the corner of her lips twitching.

"Aha, another joke." He pointed out, "You'll get the hang of this in no time."

She smiled at him, not a full blown heart warming smile that would cause his knees to weaken, but a smile that let him know he was getting somewhere. Even while tired, appearing so physically drained, Tony could see her beauty. He almost –_almost_ said something about it, but realized that the absolute last thing she needed while injured, was someone like him to start hitting on her. As soon as he made the decision, he became aware of how drastic it was. He couldn't remember the last time he actually refrained from hitting on someone.

He was tired himself, but didn't want to leave her and clearly she didn't want him to, so he had no choice but to lean back in the chair and stay with her. "You get some sleep, I'll take the guard duty." He said with a smile. If something went down, without his suit, he would be completely useless anyway.

"Wake me at 0400 hours." Natasha said with a yawn, as if they were to swap shifts.

"Of course." Tony grinned and watched her shuffle so she was lying down under the blankets. She turned her head to the other side and it wasn't long before Tony noted the change in her breathing, the rise and fall of her chest became slower and more even. He understood what all this meant, the fact that she could allow herself to fall asleep in his presence meant she really did trust him. He doubted she would admit it, even to herself, but nevertheless, Tony was aware of it and it warmed him more than it should have.

* * *

**Big thank you to those of you who take the time to review, even if it's just a few words, I really appreciate you letting me know what you think. Every time I can't really be bothered writing another chapter, I look at the reviews of the last update and pretty much get instant feels. So thanks, you guys are keeping me going :) **


	14. He Cares

It seemed that Natasha would have to accept that no matter what she did or how hard she fought, she would always be immersed in a world of secrecy and lies. Even while she had come back to the base, there were still double agents planted in there. And it was clear to anyone who knew anything about the agency, that these particular people had to be high up in the hierarchy and would have no doubt been there for a long time. All the newer agents had been flushed out, anyone with any sort of black spot in their file that could hint towards treason. But there were more, there had to be.

Trust had never come easy to Natasha, her life was one betrayal after another so at least she was not too far out of her depth with her new situation. But she was so tired of looking over her shoulder, she just wanted to feel safe. She knew that would never happen. She thought that when all the double agents were discovered, that Fury would go into hiding. He would be target number one out of any of them, so it would make sense for him to disappear, even for a little while, like Natasha had done.

But apparently he had hunkered down with a few of the other top agents and then led the charge to cleanse the organization. It made Natasha feel guilty, she had run while he stayed to fight. When she was finally allowed face time with him, he more or less told her that he was glad she had gone into temporary hiding, she had been injured and he approved of her course of action. Even though the words were said formally and lacking much personalization, it was the equivalent to a glowing review from Fury and Natasha was aware of this. The man did not give out praise very often, so she took what she could get.

She was familiar with lock down scenarios, all regional missions were put on hold, nobody left the base and to get back in was nearly impossible. Agents that had been abroad on cover missions were contacted and told to remain under cover. Natasha had been through all of this before, she knew she would have to stay at the base for an indefinite amount of time and she wasn't bothered by that. But, she could definitely tell that Tony was.

It was almost amusing to see him so far out of his comfort zone. He had spent plenty of time at the base, but he had been free to come and go as he chose. That was still slightly the case, but it was heavily suggested that he remained close. Natasha was a little confused though, she would have thought he would fly away the first chance he got. He had the suit, he clearly didn't want to be there, but when she asked him why he was staying, he just complained that his tower was currently being 'raped' by inferior SHIELD technology.

Natasha knew he had plenty of other places to go to, but he still didn't leave. He spent most of the time in his lab, a good deal of his research had been shut off until they could locate the rest of the moles, but he was still allowed most of the resources that he needed. For the first three days Natasha was kept in a completely secure room with Fury and two other agents who had always been nameless to her. She knew who they were in a sense, they were just like her, but with no title. No trace. They did not exist. They spent those first days by taking a name and searching every database in the world for information regarding their chosen person. It was like a vetting procedure that came close to a metaphorical cavity search.

It was tedious and it was painstakingly slow, they needed more people but Fury made it clear that the less people involved, the better. It wasn't quite Natasha's area, but she had worked with a lot of people within the organization at one point of another and she knew them, knew their styles. She was also good at picking up lies and discrepancies. Plus, Fury nearly outright stated that she was one of the very few people he would trust to do this.

And of course, she was SHIELD's leading interrogator. After they had gotten their hands on every possible scrap of information about a certain person, that agent would be called in and a rather in dept interview would take place. There was no good cop-bad cop, no silly games. There was only Natasha grilling for matching info until she was satisfied. They managed about four interviews a day and at that rate, the whole procedure was going to take a very long time.

At the end of the third day, she was too tired to take on any more and Fury allowed her a break for the night. She was still injured, though she healed faster than anybody could believe and she couldn't tell them why, RedRoom was still way above most people's pay grades. When she came out of the secure room that Fury had her working in, all she could think about was a hot meal and a shower before she face planted onto the bed in her assigned quarters. Yet as she began to walk, she found her feet taking her through the base to the door of Tony's lab.

She knocked on the door and waited patiently, receiving no answer. Her eyes flicked up to the camera at the top of the frame, the fish eye lens had a view of the entire corridor and she knew if someone was looking at the monitors, they would be able to see her. She knocked again, frowning at the camera.

"Hang on. Two seconds." A voice spilled from the speaker panel at the side of the door and Natasha recognized it as Bruce's. She knew he was on the base, but she hadn't actually seen him since her return, since everything had imploded within the organization. She heard a loud bang from inside the lab and then what was very clearly a string of vibrant swearing from Tony. She hesitated as the door beeped and swung open by electronic command, granting her entrance.

Bruce was the first one she saw when she stepped inside, he was standing near a machine that was spewing thick black smoke, much of which he seemed to be inhaling. Natasha glanced up as there was a series of clicks from the roof and the air-con went into over drive, sucking up the smoke in order to purify the air.

"Okay, so Beta-3 was a complete dead end." Tony said from across the room and Natasha looked over to see him with both hands firmly planted on a console of some type, his fingers darted over a series of keys to theoretically control the machine Bruce was standing beside. Natasha was very aware of the way her mood instantly brightened as she saw Tony, she wouldn't go so far as to say her heart fluttered at the sight of him, but it did feel a little less made of stone. She hadn't seen him for close to three days and she had been too busy during the day to actually miss him, but at night he had certainly been running through her mind.

When he looked up from the controls and his eyes met hers, she saw the smile that crossed his face. It was more than the usual egotistical one that she normally saw him wearing; it was closer to the ones he had adorned during their time alone when they were hiding. If she had any less character, she may have blushed. It was strange to think she could have an effect like that on someone, that for all the pain she dealt in her life, she could actually cause someone to be happy. The thought made her smile a little, which seemed to please Tony.

"Am I… interrupting something?" Natasha said, shaking herself from her little daze that occurred when she looked over at the billionaire. "You two seem rather busy. I can come back… later?" It was a hesitated suggestion, she didn't actually know when she would be able to come back, her work was taking all of her time, the need to clear the base of treachery was high on the priority list.

"No." Tony said flatly, holding out his hand as if he could stop her leaving from across the room. The lab was massive, it was larger than his one at the tower, though not by too much. It seemed SHIELD had accepted the fact that Tony needed a serious amount of space and of course Bruce shared the lab as well, considering all the high tech equipment that both men used frequently. "No, we were just running through some trials for alternate fuels." Tony moved away from his control panel and started to walk toward her.

The closer he got, the more Natasha became aware of how tired he looked. She had seen him when he was close to death, when the arc reactor had been flooding his blood stream with toxic substances and she had to admit the parallels of his new appearance were very similar. He was pale, he looked strained and there was a shading under his eyes as if sleep had been evading him.

"Tony are you okay?" She asked, unable to keep the worry from her voice. She didn't want to openly say that he looked like death was warming up, but she was thinking it.

"Better now that you are here." He said with a wink. Natasha narrowed her eyes, seeing how hard he was putting up the façade of trying to seem okay. She was not fooled.

"I'm making a coffee run, hopefully the café has decaf." Bruce called from his position near the machine and when Natasha glanced over, she saw the way the doctor specially avoided her eyes. "Be back soon." He moved awkwardly to the door and held his hand to the scanner so he was allowed out. When it was just Natasha and Tony in the enormous lab, she flicked her eyes back to him and did not care if she sounded accusing when she spoke.

"He knows, doesn't he?" She said with a curt tone. At least Tony had the decency to look sheepishly apologetic. He ran a hand through his hair and offered her a small smile, but with his weary state, it was less effective than normal and her composure was not swayed.

"He might." Tony admitted. For once, he didn't appear to be overly proud of himself. Natasha could feel her anger mounting, but her eyes were focused on how worn Tony looked and it distracted her more than Tony blabbing about intimate moments that Natasha was still trying to work her head around.

"When was the last time you slept?" Natasha asked watching Tony's face lock up at the question.

"Oh don't start." He sighed, turning away from her. The action hurt Natasha more than it should have, but she said nothing. "You sound like Bruce."

"Well Dr. Banner is intelligent enough to know that you obviously need rest and something to eat-"

"I can't rest yet." Tony cut her off, turning back to face her. He seemed angry, but instantly she was aware that it was not directed at her. "My systems were overridden from internal sources. I still have no idea how that happened. I have to figure it out! I _need_ to find out who is responsible and how it happened!"

Natasha almost took a step back, it wasn't often that Tony behaved like that, he normally had such a carefree attitude regarding just about everything. She couldn't understand why he would get so animated over the whole situation. "Tony just calm down." She said, splaying her hands in front of her. "Why are you getting like this? Is it because you can't believe someone hacked your system? Because you know it isn't the first time and-"

"NO!" Tony almost yelled the word, stepping forward to grab her wrists, closing his hands over them in a gentle but firm manner. Natasha didn't shy from the barrel of a gun, she had no fear for it and so she didn't even flinch when he completed his action. "I'm pissed off because, my system was hacked and you were shot! You lived and you are healing, but you limped in here and as happy as I was to see you, I still noticed it! I placed those trackers in your guns and that was perhaps the worst thing I have ever done because it meant when someone walked into my system, you were almost killed! Because of me!"

There was a desperation in his eyes that had shocked Natasha speechless. Even if she had been able to speak, she wouldn't have been able to find the right words and that didn't seem to matter because apparently Tony had more to say.

"I need to find them! I need to find whoever did that and take them down! I cannot risk them coming back for you, I can't be with you all day, every day to protect you! And I cannot lose you Natasha! I cannot allow that to happen!"

Natasha had no warning before he pulled her in for a kiss, she was struggling to comprehend the turn of the situation as her tired mind worked overtime, her feeling getting in the way and mucking everything up. Tony's lips were soft and familiar, they caused her body to relax and she allowed him to embrace her, his arms snaking around her shoulders to hold her close. This was what she had missed for the last few days, having Tony near her, feeling his lips against hers, their bodies pressed together. This was what she wanted, she could feel the way she warmed to him, her heart beating faster as his tongue slid between her lips to claim her.

It was logic that struggled to reach the surface, to warn her away, to remind her of who he was. It was logic that fought against the rush of feelings that openly craved Tony Stark. It was logic that won the battle.

Natasha's eyes were wide as she pushed Tony away, her hands placed on his chest, using a good deal of her strength to break the kiss. The look of confusion on his face and the disappointment in his eyes cut her deep, but she knew it was not in regards to _her, _just in his attempt to get her clothes off.

"Oh God." She whispered, looking down. "Clint was right, I have been so stupid." Tony reached out a hand to her, but she stepped back and turned away, hurrying across the lab. Tony called her name, a desperate sadness in his tone but Natasha ignored it, placing her hand on the scanner to unlock the door via her fingerprints. She could feel her leg burning, she wasn't supposed to be moving so fast and even though she doubted her speed would actually hamper the healing process, it was surely causing her unwanted pain.

She leaned her back against the lab door when it closed, her hand over her mouth as she felt her eyes misting up. She could not do this, she was worth more, she was not going to let Tony use her and manipulate her feelings. She knew he could play games, that he could get any woman into his bed that he wanted. She had once been the exception, but not anymore. Now she was just another addition. She sensed a presence and looked to the side, seeing Bruce standing only a few meters away. Natasha hadn't even noticed him when she came out of the lab, her mind had been on Tony, like it always was as of recently. He was distracting her, making her feel things she had never felt and it was driving her insane.

Bruce was holding three take away cups on a tray and when he saw Natasha's state, he adorned a look that she recognized as pity. "Natasha… He-"

She held up her hand and turned away, limping down the corridor in the direction that would eventually take her back to her quarters and far away from Tony Stark, the man who was bringing too many of her emotions to the surface.

When she got there, she showered and changed her bandages, having to admit how well her wounds were healing. She slipped into some fresh clothes and crawled into bed, knowing that even while she was so drained, her mind was racing too fast to sleep. After close to an hour of simply staring at the ceiling and willing sleep to come, Natasha heard a soft knock on her door. She knew immediately that it was not an agent, they knocked with impatience and had an official sound. This was a hesitant knock. She considered not answering it, no good could come of her opening that door in her emotionally frustrated state.

But she got out of bed anyway and crossed the small distance of the room, entering the short code for the lock and pulling the door open. She was surprised to see Bruce standing on the other side, looking almost as worn as Tony had been.

"Dr Banner?" She could see he had something to say and no doubt she wouldn't want to hear it, but she had a feeling he was going to say it anyway.

"Three days." He started, gaining an unusual confidence as he continued, "Three days of trying to work while Tony talks about you. Three days of listening to him switch between his crippling guilt to his graphic desires. I've worked with that man for awhile now and every time he comes back from a fun night, he doesn't say a word about the person he spent it with. There may be a joke or two, but never a name or anything worth remembering. But oh, _you,_ I have heard far too much about. Details I would rather not know, because of a certain other presence in my head that cannot handle such in depth explanations."

"I-" Natasha started to speak, though if he hadn't cut her off, she wouldn't have actually known what to say.

"Tony cares about you Natasha. So much that it's actually annoying. He is beating himself up about the hackers taking the tracers to your weapons. He won't sleep, he won't eat, he just claims that it's his fault you almost died and now that you are safe, he has to make sure it stays that way. The first time I saw him smile in three days, is when you walked in earlier. It lifted his entire mood. Whatever you think he is doing to you, whatever game you think he is playing, it's not true! He _cares_. When you left, he flipped out and took off in the suit, I don't know where he went, he's not answering his coms but I know that you did something to hurt him. He was defeated when I came back into that lab, as if you had broken him. You need to fix it. I know how he treats women, but this situation isn't like that and you need to stop judging him by his past. You of all people know the significance of being given a second chance."

With a final glare he turned and walked away, leaving Natasha in a frozen state. There was no way for her to immediately digest everything Bruce had just shot at her, she needed time. She needed to get her focus and her composure back. Numbly, she shut her door and locked it, walking backwards until her legs met the bed and she sat down on the edge. Bruce knew Tony better than anyone, the two had bonded instantly and she had no reason to believe he would ever openly lie to her face.

She lay down and resumed her previous action of staring at the ceiling while her mind whirred, running too fast for her liking. Everything used to be so simple and now it could not possibly have been any more complicated. She couldn't believe the idea that Tony actually cared about her, as much as she desperately hoped it was true. But Bruce had not been lying, he was a terrible liar and that was something she knew for a fact. Her mind was too much of a mess and she was too tired to handle it all. She fell asleep the moment her thoughts gave her a break, with the intention of finding Tony and sorting out the chaos of their current situation. Because as much as she could reason he only wanted to use her, she was realizing just how much she needed him.


	15. A Touching and Confusing Notion

Natasha woke early, like she normally did. She had the ability to run on very little sleep and still perform at her peak, though she would pay for it later with a weariness that was overwhelming. It was 5 am when she opened her eyes and found herself curled up on her bed, above the covers and still wearing her clothes from the previous day. It took her just a moment to remember the situation and Bruce's words slammed into her with unrelenting force. Hearing them repeat in her head was enough to spring her out of bed and straight to the bathroom.

As usual, she'd woken after a night of dreams that haunted her subconscious. She had a cold sweat across her forehead and down her arms, even though she had pushed herself into reality immediately, those nightmares had still been there and her body was still suffering their after effects. Strange, that she realized now how those nightmares had been vacant when she had been on the run with Tony. She had attributed that to stress, but now she was wondering if perhaps Tony was the reason they had stayed away.

She no longer had any clue what to think, her emotions were strangers to her and they were taking over, driving her to reach out to him and bring him back to her. It made her afraid, she could feel how weak she was. She tried to focus on the shower, letting the hot water beat down on her, thankful for the pressure. It was only a quick shower and soon she had dried and dressed herself in a black shirt and pants, both items showing SHIELD logos. She had to admit, the organization liked to remind everyone who they belonged to.

It wasn't the first time Natasha had been assigned these quarters, they were officially hers and she could do with them what she pleased. Other agents would put up photos, or maybe decorate the rooms a little. But not Natasha. There was nothing she was proud enough to display, she had no photos of her family, only pained memories that she could not even be sure were real. Her brain had been tampered with too many times to be certain of anything. But her emotions could not be altered through external sources and they were certain that they wanted Tony. They clung to the belief that he wanted her and she hoped this was true. There was a reasons he did not let herself feel, because she could not risk getting hurt.

If she let someone in, she let them all the way in and that made her completely vulnerable. She hurriedly pulled on some shoes and set off through the base with a slight limp, passing only a few agents or guards who had ventured out at that time in the morning. When she reached the lab, she hesitated, not sure if Bruce would even be awake. She didn't know if Tony had returned, but either way, she needed to find him. She knocked and waited, she was surprised when the door opened only a few moments later.

Bruce stood there looking exhausted, as though he had been going all night, which Natasha knew he often did. He gave her a nod and moved back so she could come in. Instantly she knew Tony was not there and she could not hide the disappointed look that crossed her face.

"He's not back." Bruce said pointlessly, failing to stifle a yawn. "Haven't heard from him. JARVIS just keeps saying he isn't within communication range."

"He's not with the suit?" Natasha asked, finding that difficult to believe. Bruce shrugged to show he didn't have an explanation and waved his hand though the air, bringing up a holographic panel. Natasha knew it was only Tony's input into the facility that allowed that sort of thing, the merge with Stark Industries had ensured SHIELD systems were given one hell of an upgrade. She watched Bruce tap a few things and then stood back, flicking his hand to indicate she should step forward.

She understood and walked over, giving Bruce a hesitant look. The doctor nodded and crossed the lab, flicking through some lose pages on his workbench and pretending he couldn't hear anything. "Tony?" Natasha felt odd addressing a holographic panel, but she continued anyway. "Tony, come back. Stop all this. SHIELD is in disarray and you are still a target. You are in danger. We all are." It was the most sincere she could sound without coming to pleading and she knew if any of the agents under her could hear her talking that way, she would lose all intimidation. There was no answer for a few seconds and Natasha opened her mouth to get angry. JARVIS cut her off with a cool comment that seemed almost rehearsed.

"Mr. Stark is not within communication range."

Natasha stared at the panel, as if JARVIS could see her glare and would be affect by it. "JARVIS, where is he, what is he doing?" Her tone was demanding, she was aware that one didn't have to be nice to get information out of JARVIS, if he was at liberty to discuss it, he would, no matter the mood of the questioner.

"That information is something I have been asked not to relay." JARVIS replied. If Natasha didn't know any better, she would have thought the AI sounded rather apologetic.

"JARVIS, tell me where Tony is, right now." Natasha was trying not to lose her composure, all this secrecy about Tony taking off was starting to worry her. "JARVIS he could be in danger. Let me talk to him." If something happened to him because of Natasha driving him away, she knew there would be no forgiveness from herself.

"Dr. Banner, please show agent Romanoff to vault box 833." JARVIS altered the volume so that Bruce could hear the request from across the lab, surprising both him and Natasha.

"Uh… JARVIS, what's going on?" Bruce asked, starting to make his way over.

"Vault 833." The AI repeated, earning frowns from the two humans that were listening.

Natasha gave Bruce a questioning look , but he shrugged, clearly too tired to deal with all of this. He beckoned her to follow him over to the side wall that had a series of numbers panels. "This is where we lock everything down." He explained with another yawn. "Poisonous chemicals, hard copies of files for some of the research. That sort of thing." He ran his fingers over the numbers until he found 833. Bruce placed his thumb over the numbers and a moment later there was a small beep and a hiss sounded as a pressurized lock was broken. Bruce opened the draw and looked down, giving a 'huh' sound.

"So, this is what he was working on." He mused, rubbing his chin.

"Doctor?" Natasha was unsure whether she should take a step forward, or remain a safe distance back. Bruce reached into the draw and pulled out what at first seemed like a black glove. The confusion of the entire situation was not lessened for Natasha, she had absolutely no clue what was going on.

"You have tiny hands." Bruce murmured, turning the glove over. In the centre of the palm was a glowing blue disk, similar looking to Tony's arc reactor, though about a third of the size. Bruce handed the object to Natasha, seeming amused at the bewildered expression on her face. She was surprised when she realized the glove was made of metal, though it was lighter than it should have been. It was slightly larger than her hand.

"Son of a bitch." She breathed in a rush, understanding this device was made for her hand. She touched the glowing disk and was not surprised as the metal detached along the side of the glove, as though it were a material that could unknit itself. Natasha was wide eyed as she slid her hand inside, feeling the cool metal encase her fingers and 'knit' itself back together. "He remembered."

"Hmm?" Bruce asked, his expression showing he was now the confused one. Natasha held her hand up and flexed her fingers, slightly amazed at how well the metal conformed to her movement. She held her hand flat, splaying her fingers which caused the small disk to glow, preparing to fire. She knew the sign and closed her fist, marvelling at how comfortable the metal felt. It wasn't constrictive or painful, it fit her hand perfectly. She was stunned, to say the least.

"Back when I was working for Tony, when SHIELD sent me in undercover, he had his monumental 'I'm dying' party." Natasha flexed her fingers as she spoke, finding it strange how familiar the metal was beginning to feel. "I was ordered to attend. Before things got out of hand, Tony made me put on one of his gloves from the suit." Natasha ran her bare fingers along the tips of her metal encased ones. That was when she had smiled genuinely, the smile that he had declared he would bring back. "He saw how much fun I had." She smiled then, just a little one. It seemed to shock Bruce though, she realized even though she had started to relax herself around Tony, nobody else was used to seeing her drop her outwardly robotic demeanour.

Suddenly she spun around and walked back over to the holographic panel, her mood had returned to a serious one and she felt determined. "JARVIS, give me Tony's location, right now!"

* * *

Tony knew Natasha was trying to contact him, but he refused to take the call. It didn't help that JARVIS was literally in his ear, trying to get him to accept. "I will take you off line if you don't be quiet." Tony warned, releasing the power in his thrusters so he could fly lower, speeding across the ocean at only a few feet above the surface. "Just tell them I'm not near the suit.

"Sir, agent Romanoff seems to be losing her composure." JARVIS informed him, almost sounding worried.

"Of course she is." Tony rolled his eyes, pushing more power into the thrusters on his feet again, so he could increase his speed. "She's part of SHIELD and SHIELD always gets into a tantrum when I don't tell them where I'm going."

"Sir, I advise you to make contact with agent Romanoff, she appears to be quite distressed."

"She'll be _fine_ JARVIS." Tony said through gritted teeth, his metal fists balling. "She doesn't need me to rush back there and sweep her off her feet. She doesn't need me period. She doesn't need anyone, she is clear on that."

"Sir-"

"Shut it, JARVIS." Tony said with evident frustration. "You are not the ruler of my love life and therefore have no say in the matter!"

"Love, sir?" JARVIS replied with a hint of condescension.

"It's a figure of speech, you over confident computer system."

"Of course sir. No alternate meanings. Is that why you are currently on a mission to track down the man who attempted to kill agent Romanoff?"

Tony ground his teeth together, sometimes JARVIS was a little too sassy for his liking. Then again, for the longest time, JARVIS had been Tony's only friend. That was sad in itself, yet truer than anybody would have believed. "I'm cleaning up my mess JARVIS." Tony pointed out, his tone made it clear that the AI should stop speaking.

"If I may interject sir," Tony rolled his eyes, knowing that JARVIS was not about to sit idly by without placing his two cents worth in. "Your mess began when the tracking chips were hacked. Agent Jenson was the one that turned on Natasha. It was her fault that-"

"Hey!" Tony yelled, his voice resounding inside the helmet as he reprimanded his AI, "Do not say that it is Natasha's fault. Leave it JARVIS! That is a command." Tony gritted his teeth, seething at the comment JARVIS had made.

"My apologies sir." JARVIS had the decency to create a tone that matched his words. "A line has been crossed. It will not happen again."

"See that it doesn't." Tony quipped angrily. It wasn't often that he lost his temper at JARVIS, but the computer system seemed to have a knack for getting under Tony's skin. Almost in the same way that Natasha had been good at getting into his head. She had barely left it since he had watched her almost run from him, no doubt causing herself pain in her attempt to flee. It hurt. More than Tony would ever be willing to admit. He had opened himself up to her and she had thrown it back at him. Yet he couldn't stop thinking about her. He was not used to this, being the one that cared about a person while they did not feel the same way. He knew he shouldn't be surprised, Natasha was known for her ways with men, it was what made her successful in her career. She played men as though it was a talent.

Tony didn't think he had been played, but he knew he hadn't broken through those walls as much as he would have liked. That didn't change the fact that he cared about her, or that he desperately wanted to keep her safe. That was why he decided to go after Jenson, hacking into every system in the world to find him, running facial scans and voice matchers. It had taken under an hour and then he had shot off. He was going to find this man and bring him back so he could pay for what he had done to Natasha. He was going to be punished for tearing down whatever trust the assassin had left.

"Did she try on the glove?" Tony asked JARVIS, breaking from his thoughts of revenge.

"Yes sir. It seems to fit perfectly. She explained to the doctor about the time that you encouraged her to try on one of yours."

"She remembered?" Tony asked, slightly surprised. It had been nearly two years ago to the day and he didn't expect her to have any recollection. He was aware that she must have a good memory, but he imagined she would discard certain memories that were not important to her or to her work.

"It seems so." JARVIS answered unnecessarily. "You must feel better now that she has access to your own technology in case she finds herself in danger." The AI's tone was clearly hinting and Tony did not appreciate it.

"You are breaching that line again JARVIS." Tony warned.

"My apologies sir." JARVIS lacked the sincere tone from before. "Perhaps I cannot assist in the matter, but it would be nice if you could sort out that twisted mess of feelings you have, instead of acting like a scorned child with a crush."

"JARVIS!"

"Apologies sir."

* * *

Natasha had no choice but continue with her work, if there was no way for her to track down Tony. She had no authority over JARVIS, she could not order the AI to tell her where Tony was. She held onto the glove, slipping it into the pocket of her pants. It was far smaller than Tony's, somehow dainty looking as well as dangerous. It was a touching notion and she couldn't understand why he had made it. She was more focused on where he was and what he was doing.

That information was presented to her when she arrived at the secure interview room and saw Fury looking close to livid. When his eye met her gaze, she understood she was in trouble.

"I spoke to Agent Barton." Fury said with a cool voice. "He has informed me of a few things."

"Sir, I-"

"That matter needs to be settled later." Fury said, shocking her. She would have assumed he would want to get right on the subject of her sleeping with Tony, which is no doubt what Clint would have relayed to the director. "Right now, we have confirmation of agent Jenson's capture."

Natasha's knuckles cracked audibly and her eyes narrowed, her lips curling over her teeth. Normally she would never had let her anger seethe out like that and certainly not in front of Fury, but she could not help it. Of all the betrayals of her life, Jenson's was near the top of the list. It had been a shame to her that she had not managed to kill him when he turned on her. Fury did not seem surprised by her reaction and he did not comment on it. Clearly it was expected. "Who captured him sir?" Natasha asked, knowing that she would have a wave of respect for this person.

"Tony Stark." Fury said simply and turned to walk down the hall. Natasha's anger deflated, turning to shock instead. She stared after her director as if he was making a joke, but as long as she had known the man, that had never once been the case. Fury did not have a sense of humor, Natasha knew that better than anybody.

"Sir?" She asked, unsure of her orders.

"Stark is bringing Jenson in now. ETA, ten minutes. It is your choice whether you are in on this or not."

Natasha hesitated, normally an agent with any link to a case was kept away from it. Personal issues got in the way and mistakes could be made. But Fury was offering her the choice, he obviously understood how strong her feelings were on the matter. She limped after him, her fists balling again as she imagined smashing them into Jenson's face.

Natasha looked up as Stark appeared in the sky as soon as she and Fury made it to the exit. There was an army of agents waiting outside for his arrival. Natasha was almost twitching, her anticipation was so high and yet when Tony flew down and dropped Jenson at an unnecessary height, Natasha kept her gaze on Tony. He paused and she was sure he was looking at her, though it was hard to tell with his face hidden behind the mask.

"Whoa!" Fury yelled when Tony started to fly away. "Where do you think you are going?"

"Sorry director." Tony said with a heavily mocking tone, giving a salute that held no respect. "I've got a party to plan. Just swung by to give Romanoff a present." And with that, he was gone. Natasha swallowed and avoided Fury's gaze, walking over to Jenson who now had twenty automatic rifles pointed at him. Though judging by the way he was holding his ankle, it had broken in the fall and he probably wouldn't be going anywhere in a hurry.

"Hello agent." Natasha said harshly, dropping into a crouch and gripping Jenson's ankle. He grunted in pain as she squeezed harder that she would have if this man had just been another double agent. But he had betrayed her. _Her_. She would not allow this man mercy. As he opened his mouth to speak, she threw a punch that almost unbalanced her and knocked him out instantly. She watched the blood spurt from his mouth as a few of his teeth rained out onto the concrete.

"Get him in the cells." She ordered, standing up and clenching her fists. At the nod of Fury, several agents rushed forward and grabbed Jenson, lifting him off the ground to comply with Natasha's command.

As he was taken out of sight, Fury turned toward Natasha, raising his one remaining eyebrow. "What was Stark referring to when he mentioned a party?" He asked, as if Natasha was aware of every detail that was planned within Tony's mind.

"This is the first I've heard of it sir." She said honestly. "Though it could have something to do with Tony's birthday being in a couple of days." He seemed to believe she knew nothing of it, but he was no doubt surprised she remembered his birthday. Natasha had to admit that she was too. She was starting to realize how much she cared.


	16. Run Away

**This chapter is dedicated to Sky Fenty, because you commissioned this and you are awesome for doing so :) And also to SmittiMJC, who gave me fantastic reviews. Seriously guys I run off reviews for this, like a life source. So thank you. **

**Oh p.s, a little warning for smut, but not really. Just to be safe.**

* * *

Tony knew he was in trouble when he reached bottom of his much loved bottle, yet again. It wasn't often that he would drink until there was nothing left, maybe twice every couple of weeks, but it had been twice in three days. And he still reached for a fresh bottle, needing to continue the false feeling of euphoria that he was clinging to. Part of him knew this was drastically unhealthy and the other part of him didn't give a shit. He had returned to his old ways, taking solace in nothing but stiff drinking, until he could drain himself down to fall asleep.

JARVIS was in his ear constantly, as usual. Warning him not to operate heavy machinery while under the influence, warning him of stairs before he tripped over them, reminding him where the medical kit was when he did trip and received a graze across his shoulder. He knew this behaviour was because of the blatant rejection he received from Natasha. He knew it, but yet was still denying it even to himself.

"I don't even care. It was just sex." He uttered aloud, with no one other than JARVIS to actually hear the words.

"Of course sir." The AI replied with evident sarcasm. "That is why you keep announcing that fact at random intervals."

"Well I don't care." Tony said hotly, as if his programme had actually been arguing. "And she doesn't care. Nobody cares. Here's to the return of the old ways, being thigh deep in a gorgeous blonde, with a drink in my hand." He raised his glass as if to toast, draining the lot and pouring more from the bottle in front of him. He heard a sigh from the speakers in the roof and rolled his eyes, waiting for JARVIS to make yet another point of disagreement.

"Agent Romanoff had attempted to communicate with you, twelve times." JARVIS informed him, causing Tony to sit up straight.

"Are you serious?" Tony almost growled. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?" He glared at the roof as if JARVIS would be affected.

"You instructed me to hold all calls sir. But she is calling now and if I may say so sir, you need to speak with her."

Tony grumbled before draining his glass again and leaning back, spreading his arms to rest on the back of the couch. "Yeah, okay, patch her through. Is she at the base?"

"Yes sir, one moment."

Tony waited patiently, ignoring the way he noticed the slight increase of his heart rate the moment he heard Natasha's voice. Even though she seemed angry at initial contact, it was a silken sound and Tony had missed it. Though of course he would deny that.

"Tony, what is going on?" Natasha's voice blared into the room, coming from several different speakers instead of a single source. "Why is the media declaring your birthday to be the party of the century!"

It would figure that he didn't speak to her for three days and suddenly she was yelling at him. Tony refilled his glass, ignoring the way his hand reached for the bottle three times before finally closing around it. He took a deep breath and followed with another sip of the burning liquid.

"Romanoff, how good to hear from you." He said sarcastically, raising his glass as if she could see it. "And to answer your question, probably because it _will_ be the party of the century."

"Tony, stop, you cannot throw a party right now! SHIELD is still in disarray and-"

"Yeah, I'm not exactly part of that super secret boy band." Tony stood, swayed for a moment before stretching his arms above his head. "So the whole internal chaos is not really my problem. I mean, sure my systems were hacked and then agents decided to lodge up in my tower, but I flushed them out and my casa is my casa, once again." Tony walked over to the bar, running his fingers over a selection of the bottles.

"Tony, have you been drinking?" There was hesitation in Natasha's voice that Tony almost mistook for worry. Then he remembered who she was and what she did, that she didn't care.

"No Agent. I don't drink. You must be mistaking me for the Captain." He chuckled lightly at the silence, leaning against the bar for a moment. "And will you be attending my party this year?" He called, almost cloyingly. "I suppose SHIELD will order you to keep an eye on me, like you had to do two years ago. Unless you are too busy with Jenson."

"I'm not… I, I was taken off his case." Natasha replied quietly and Tony stood up straighter, frowning intensely.

"Why?" He asked, his mood suddenly serious. He heard her take a breath and would have bet anything that she was running a hand through her hair. Through those luxurious flaming curls that Tony longed to touch again. He shook his head, glaring at the reflection of himself behind the bar.

"Too attached." She answered after a moment. "I… broke his nose during questioning. And he's now missing half of his teeth. He can't talk very coherently. Fury removed me, claiming I would end up snapping and killing him…. He's right."

Tony swirled the drink in his hand, staring at it for a few seconds, before setting it down on the bar. For the first time in close to a week, he didn't actually feel like a drink.

"Natasha…" He began slowly, a million things swirling around in his mind, trying to escape through his mouth, but he hardened his gaze and refused to let those thoughts surface. "Romanoff, are you coming to the party or not? It's pretty much just going to be A list, but uh, SHIELD usually gets some one that list somehow."

"Fury said if I could not get you to stop the party from happening, then I would have to attend, to keep everything in check." She seemed saddened for a moment, but then Tony remembered she didn't have emotions.

"Because you did such a wonderful job laugh time." Tony chuckled sarcastically. There was no answer from her, as expected. "Well Romanoff, I guess I'll see you there."

"Yes Stark, you will." Her voice was cold that time and the connection broke a moment later, a soft beeping filling the air that Tony was hardly aware of. He had called her Romanoff without even really thinking about it, not focusing on the fact that she was calling him by his first name. But when she reverted to what she used to call him, his more formal address, it actually stung.

"Uh. Spies." He murmured, taking a look at his drink and waving a hand at it, as though the action would cause it do disappear. "JARVIS, I'm going to bed, run over the last few details for the party, double check the caterers and the DJ. Tomorrow is going to be a big day."

* * *

Natasha knew that this was the last place in the world that she wanted to be. At that moment, she would rather be breaking the bones of a certain double agent, but orders were orders. She stood in front of Tony's Malibu mansion, remembering the last party she had attended there, how disastrous it had been. She could only hope that history would not be repeating itself. Several other SHIELD agents were already inside, men whose identities would not be known to Tony, undercover agents who would be having the time of their lives, dancing with the half dressed woman while trying to look for threats. It was for Tony's protection, he was still in danger.

Natasha wore a short black strapless dress that revealed enough of her shapely legs to give the Illusion she was much taller than she actually was. Her flaming curls were pulled up into a ponytail, she couldn't be bothered to do anything with them so it as a simple twist, revealing her neck which bore only a golden chain with an hourglass pendant. A gift from Clint. It was really the only piece of jewellery she owned, she wasn't exactly a fan of wearing necklaces or bracelets.

As she stood in front of the enormous house, watching the valets park the expensive cars, she had a feeling of foreboding. The party was in full swing and people were still arriving endlessly, the claims of the media were starting to have reasonable effect. Natasha took a deep breath and walked forward, her heels clicking over the white pavement as she ignored the looks she received from the men who had gathered around the front of the house.

She knew it was going to be one of those nights, when she would be immersed within crowds of intoxicated dancers who rubbed up against each other incessantly. She would rather be back at base, even as she pushed her way through to the main lounge, where she knew the party would be centred, she was imagining her fists slamming into every inch of Jenson. She looked down to her shoulder, where the well healing wound of the bullet was covered by a temporary dragon tattoo. Nothing fancy, but there was a similar one on her leg, if she focused on avoiding her limp, there would be no sign of her recent injuries.

As she came into the main lounge, forcing herself not to cringe at the volume of the music, she noticed Bruce standing at the other end of the bar, his hands up as people pushed past him, clearly trying not to touch anybody. Natasha hurried over and noted the relieved look in his eyes as he saw her.

"What the hell are you doing here!" Natasha almost had to scream over the music. Bruce shook his head and pulled her out to the balcony, letting the glass door slide shut behind them to dull the sounds of the party considerably. "Doctor, look at me." Natasha said, seeing Bruce let out a shaky sigh.

"I'm okay." He breathed, gripping the railing. "I just…. Wow…"

"No offence doctor Banner, but you should not be here." Natasha said calmly, holding up her hands, gesturing back inside. "This is not a good environment for you to be in. We all know that."

"Oh yes, I'm very aware." Bruce said, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. "Tony insisted I come. You know how persuasive he can be. And then he uh…disappeared."

"Where?" Natasha asked, suddenly anxious. Danger could come from anywhere at the party, Tony was still a target. "Bruce, I need to know." Her eyes held the fire that always convinced people to obey her commands, she noticed the shift in Bruce's expression, he seemed to be considering something.

"He… I think he went to his room." Bruce said, hesitantly and Natasha turned, running back to the glass door. "No! Natasha wait!" Bruce called after her, but she didn't stop, throwing herself back into the party that was a perfect occasion for someone to try and take out Iron Man. She pushed past the dancers, not caring as they openly protested, her feet moving quickly considering the slight ache in her leg and the height of her heels.

* * *

Tony had expected the party to lift his spirits, to put him back into a fun loving mood, but his smile had been forced as he greeted his guests, his eyes flicking around the room every three seconds, searching for a certain assassin that he denied feeling anything for. He drank and then drank some more, ending up with a falsely happy mood that he accepted, knowing it was probably the best he was going to get for the night.

He didn't remember approaching the long legged blond, or maybe she approached him? Either way, he suddenly found himself alone with her in his room, his shirt laying on the floor, her dress thrown across the room. The only thing that actually separated them was his pants and her underwear. They moved against each other, panting and moaning softly, alcohol causing them both to be slightly incoherent and less precise in their movements.

When he removed his shirt and her eyes found his reactor, Tony saw the hesitation in them. She did not reach out and touch it, she looked away, clearly opting to ignore it. Tony rolled his hips against hers, pinning her arms above her head as he lay above her on the bed, kissing at her neck. He blew the strands of bleached blond hair out of the way, the color used to be his favourite on a woman, but at that moment he was wishing she had red curls.

He pushed Natasha from his mind, this was not about her, this was about Tony understanding that he had let himself get connected to a person who had no physical way of reciprocating any feelings.

"Oh Tony…." The woman under him moaned as he closed his eyes and rolled his hips again, gaining pleasure for himself as well.

"Oh Natasha…." Tony moaned back, biting along her collar bone. Tony's movements stilled as his eyes snapped open, his heart beginning to race and the blood was suddenly drained from certain other areas. Never in his life had he been turned off so fast, in fact there was very little that could actually turn him off. But oh, it definitely happened in that moment. He knew his eyes were wide as he looked down at the woman that was most certainly _not_ Natasha. He hadn't even asked for her name. He sat up, seeing the confusion on her face. Before either of them could speak, the door slammed opened.

Tony turned his head to see the real Natasha standing there in a tight dress that was enough to send blood flowing back to other areas immediately. It shaped her curves as though it had been made for her figure specifically, being far too tight around the chest and ending far to high around her thighs for Tony to easily move his eyes away. But he did, sliding them up her body, to her face. Even in the moment, he was ready to frown at the way her hair was up and not spilling about her gorgeous shoulders.

But the look on her face stopped him from even breathing. In a mere second, he saw the panicked worry in her eyes, which rapidly changed to relief as a stunning smile began to spread across her lips. But that was gone too, as her intuitive eyes noticed his bare torso and moved to the very confused looking blond woman under him. He knew in that moment he had been wrong about her, that she could feel emotions. The pain that crossed her expression was almost enough to stop Tony's heart from beating. She didn't even bother to put up her mask as the anguish took hold, sheer agony shining from her eyes.

Tony did not even get a chance to speak before she hurriedly mumbled an apology and turned away, shutting the door behind her. Tony was in shock, unable to move, unable to speak as he stared at the spot when Natasha had been.

"Do you…. Know her?" The nameless woman under him asked, slurring her words in a way that Tony hadn't noticed before, shock seeming to sober himself up. "I can be Natasha if you want." The woman added, adorning a sultry voice that had no effect with how much she was under the influence.

Tony didn't even look back at her, he was leaping off the bed and running for the door before he was even aware of it, self loathing taking hold with every step.

* * *

Natasha didn't care that she was supposed to be on duty, she didn't care that she would be disobeying orders if she left the party. She needed to get away, needed to get out before she killed every single person in that house. She took off down the side of the house and aimed for the beach, running at a pace that increased significantly when she threw off her heels. Her leg burned but she continued, hating that she was running away, hating that she was letting herself feel.

She leaped over the barrier that separated the grass from the sand, her feet sinking in slightly as she ran, not stopping until she reached the water's edge. The moon shone brightly above her, a romantic glow settling upon a woman who was anything but. It was taunting, as though the moon itself was teasing her, reminding her that she was -and would always be- alone.

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**Hehehe. Reviews are greatly appreciated. Because no doubt most of you will kick up a stick about this chapter. **e hea


	17. Aplogies

**I wasn't going to update this so soon, but yeah, all those reviews gave me a pretty good boost towards this story, thank you so much, you guys are so positive and amazing. Please keep reviewing, tell me how I'm going and what you love, it helps to lead the story in certain directions :)**

**P.s, warning for smut.**

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Tony's mind was awash with guilt as he ran, willing his legs to move faster than should have been possible, his bare feet flying at an insane speed as he desperately searched for Natasha. His first instinct was that she would have taken off to the cars, but he didn't even know if she had driven herself, or gotten a ride with one of the other SHIELD agents that he _knew_ had been placed at his party undercover. He nearly throttled a valet as he asked where Natasha had gone, grabbing the poor man with enough force to make him instantly struggle and try to back away. Tony didn't care, he was gone the moment the man said he hadn't seen any red heads come out.

Tony sprinted down the side of the house, calling out her name. He knew she couldn't have gone around the front, it was a fatal fall to jagged rocks on that side, a dangerous and spectacular view to say the least. It was a long way to the sandy beaches that sloped around the side of his house, the only way to get to those secluded areas was actually from a grass verge that levelled out not to far from one of Tony's garages. He doubted she would have gone that way, but he was desperate and he ran that way anyway. He stood on top of the verge, his heart racing as he looked for her, squinting through the dark even though the moon was letting out a warm glow to illuminate better than it normally did.

A long way down the beach, an impossible distance considering the time frame of Tony's search, was a silhouetted figure. He had absolutely no reason to believe it was Natasha, it could have been any of the guests from the party and yet his feet were moving again before he had a chance to think about it. Considering he was known as a genius, Tony was an absolute idiot. He drove everyone away, pushed them out of his life because he convinced himself they didn't care. And he was always left alone, by his own actions. He was his own worst enemy and that was why he hid behind his masks.

He ignored the burning of his lungs as he ran down onto the beach, his feet sinking into the sand enough to cause resistance and earn his frustration. As if the world was trying to stop him from reaching his goal, as if he was forbidden from being happy.

"Natasha!" He yelled, not knowing if his voice would carry the distance, but he could start to see a gleam of red as curls shifted in the breeze and he knew he was not chasing down some random intoxicated woman. "Natasha! Stop!" Whether by his command or her choice, the figure stilled, slowly turning toward him. Tony increased his pace, somehow, not stopping until he was only a few feet from her.

Though he had seen her in many different settings, this still seemed like a new one. Her face appeared torn, as though she couldn't decide whether to be angry, or upset. Tony understood, he had that feeling everyday of his life.

"Natasha, I'm sorry." He breathed, panting as he crossed the last few paces between them. She had every reason in the world to step away, but she remained where she was, showing that resilient spirit that Tony had grown so fond of. "Honestly, I'm sorry."

She just looked at him with those soul searching eyes, making Tony feel like she was dipping into his mind. If only she could, if only she could see all the things he was too much of a coward to say. He waited for her to speak and when she didn't he knew what was happening. She was reminding herself that he would only hurt her, as he had proved. He saw the shift in her eyes, composure being pulled back as her face retained that well known blank look. As if there was no soul beneath the cold assassin exterior.

No. Tony could not let that happen. After all they had been through recently, he would not let her hide away in her shell, conforming to be the weapon that others expected of her. Because to Tony, she was so much more. And if, this was to be the last time she would ever be with him, as the _real_ Natasha, then he was going to take what he could get. He was selfish enough to hold onto what little of her remained before she became nothing more than her job title suggested.

He stepped forward, so that whatever distance between them could be considered nonexistent as he placed one hand to her cheek and the other gently on her waist. Nearly every part of him was screaming to kiss her, to ravish her mouth with his tongue. But for a second, just a moment, he wanted to look at her. At her flawless skin that shone softly in the moon light. Sure she had scars, but who didn't? After all she had been through, she deserved to have signs of battle, signs of her never ending strength.

Tony had scars, he had a gaping hole in his chest that was filled with a power source that kept him alive. A power source that made people uncomfortable. As if he was disable, as if he was missing a limb and they had to side step around him. But Natasha had never seemed like that. Not once since he had met her, before he even knew who she truly was. He had seen the strength in her from the beginning.

And in that moment, when he was content with just holding her gently and gazing at her, when his brain was telling him to kiss her before she stepped away, he watched her eyes slide down to his chest. To the arc reactor that bothered so many. If he had not been sure of his feelings right then, it would have been her gentle finger reaching out to lightly touch the rim that made him decide what he felt for her. She seemed more entranced than anything, as though this strange device fascinated her.

"Tony." She said softly, her eyes flicking back to his, pure emotion spilling from them. It was a beautiful thing to have her like that before him, emotionally vulnerable, her full lips whispering his name.

"Natasha." Was all he replied with, before finally giving into his brains demands and kissing her. It was like electric fire sizzled through his skin, the world stopped as time slowed, her lips becoming all he knew and all he wanted to know. This woman was perfection, even her imperfections pointed towards it. He had been denying his feelings, because he could not handle them. Because they were too strange to deal with. Because, he was a coward. He never stopped to think about how relaxed she had been around him, considering by nature she was a person known to be on edge constantly. She had fallen asleep in his arms, more than once. That showed trust. He had seen her smile while they were on the run, genuine smiles. Not the tired ones she used to use when he made his unseemly advances toward her.

How long had he been trying to get her naked in his bed? Pretty much as long as he'd known her. And in that time, he hadn't even gotten close. It took a full flip of SHIELD and an invading strike team to let himself open up to Natasha, realizing just how he felt.

Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, closing his eyes to press his forehead gently to hers. Her rubbed his thumb over her cheek, hearing her panting slightly, as though he had made her breathless and that thought alone made him smile.

"Did I get a chance to say how beautiful you look tonight?" He whispered, pulling back to look at her. He remembered what she had caught him doing and a fresh wave of guilt rolled over him. "Natasha, I am _so_ sorry." Words were useless, he knew it was insulting to even say them. But words were all he had.

"No Tony, you don't have to apologize to me." She said, shaking her head. Tony removed his hand from her cheek to gently run his hands through her hair, sighing at the feel of her soft curls.

"I do." He said, growing instantly serious, flicking his eyes away from her hair and back to hers. "Natasha, I have no excuse. But _you_ are the one I want to be with." He placed both hands to her cheeks, gripping her tightly, as if she would suddenly choose now to run away. "I have been an idiot Natasha. An absolute moron. You know I'm like that. I don't think."

"No. You don't." She agreed, smiling a little. It was enough to send Tony's own smile into a full grin.

Tony placed a kiss to her forehead, breathing in her scent. "Some party huh?" He chuckled, resting his chin on the top of her head. He almost flinched when he felt her slowly wrap her arms around his waist. It was still hard to think of Natasha to be the type to display any emotion or affection.

"I-" He began, but she instantly cut him off.

"Just for once, try _not _ruining the moment with your words." She whispered, her breath heated against his neck. It sent all sorts of chills running through Tony. He moved his hands to her waist, humming softly as he gently swayed, his feet remaining still, but his body shifting slightly. He could feel her hesitation and wasn't all that surprised when she lifted her head to look up at him.

"Are you… trying to dance with me?" She asked, a slight smirk playing on the edges of her lips.

"Maybe." Tony shrugged nonchalantly, not stopping the slight sway of his hips, or his added guidance of hers. "What, I'm not allowed to dance at my own party?" He grinned at her playful frown, knowing there was nothing meant behind the reverted twist of her lips. "Which reminds me agent, what did you get me for my birthday?"

"What could I possibly get the man who has everything?" She asked, moving her arms to wrap them around his shoulders. He pulled her hips harshly against his in response, dipping his head to kiss her neck. He could smell her perfume, just a hint of scent to blend with her natural one, not like most woman who sprayed until it was an assault of the senses. Tony couldn't help but realize how many of the little things he noticed about Natasha, her scent, the perfect ringlets of her curls at the end, the double curve of the lips that he loved to kiss so much. He couldn't remember noticing so many things about anybody else. Even with Pepper, who was technically his longest relationship, if it could be called that, more like a string of one night stands that more or less ruined their work place relationship.

It was as though he was subconsciously focused on Natasha, everything about her drew him in. From that first moment she had walked in and floored his bodyguard in front of his eyes. She was a hell of a woman, there was no denying that.

"I'm lacking a few things." He said with a one sided shrug, keeping her hips against his, trying to ignore how close the hem of her short dress was to his fingertips, trying to resist the urge to lift it up and roam beneath it. "Like common sense. Arguably. Though some people might say I really am the smartest man in the world."

"Like who?" She smiled at him, clearly disbelieving.

"Well, you know. JARVIS. For one. Steve for another. Mainly because that man is dumber than a pineapple." He grinned at her, always trying to elicit a smile. Instead he received a weary sigh. "Anyway, there's only really one thing I want for my birthday." He said, looking into her eyes to show he was dropping the comical side. "A certain red headed assassin with _unbelievable_ flexibility." Okay so maybe not all of his comical side.

She was kissing him before he could even blink, thank god his lips moved back without hesitation, one hand moving from her hip to cup her jaw as he skilfully slid his tongue between her lips. The tiny moan he heard from her was intoxicating, just the barest hint of sound could send his mind spinning. He had her down on the sand in seconds, his hands shooting to the bottom of her dress to pull it up, groaning at how tight it was and therefore more difficult to pull off. It looked fantastic as it shaped to her body perfectly, but at that moment it was in Tony's way and he would not stand for it. As he pulled it up her body, he noted she was wearing a thin black laced pair of underwear, but no bra. A specific combination that nearly had Tony drooling.

"How do you do this." He murmured against her bare breasts as he finally removed her dress and had her sprawled out under him, very nearly naked. "Reduce me this. To little more than a drooling, grunting sex craving machine." He groaned as he felt her hand slide down his chest and over his stomach, brushing with excruciating softness over his hardening erection. In response, or rather retaliation, he promptly slid his thumbs under the only garment that covered her, before removing it as fast as he could. He didn't hesitate before dipping his head between her legs, feeling her entire body arch as his tongue slid between her folds and he could taste how very wet she was.

He groaned as she moaned, their two sounds combining with the noise of the crashing waves further down the beach. Tony slid his tongue inside her, feeling her relax and open up, which caused him to cringe, his erection becoming so hard it was almost painful. But he could not let her stop those beautiful sounds, he needed to hear them, needed to know how good he was making her feel. This was a Natasha that he was betting very few people had seen. He had no illusions about what she did for a living, but he was also aware of how superb her acting was, how well she could fake anything. He knew this was no ruse, that what she was portraying was what she was feeling. Tony groaned, she tasted like pure bliss, like something he should not have access to. As though he was unworthy.

She had always been a forbidden fruit to Tony, one he sought after with every intention of having , yet she always seemed to be completely steadfast. But he had her now, undoing at his very touch, every flick of his tongue elicited another moan from her, until Tony could not handle it any longer, his pants were removed and the moment he was naked he moved up along her body, pressing his lips to hers. She showed no resistance to the kiss, like many would, hating the taste of themselves. That notion alone was enough for him to quickly push himself inside her, no longer able to wait. They moaned in unison, Tony's mouth dropping to her neck as she arched her back, her own wetness ensuring he could push in without being overly gentle.

He didn't even want to move after that, he would have been so content to just feel her enveloping him, such a tight heat, even with how wet she had been. But it was her that moved first, letting out a frustrated sort of moan, her hands clasping at his shoulders as she rolled her hips, clearly sending him a message and trying to gain pleasure for herself. Tony didn't need to be told twice and he certainly did not start with a gentle pace, his thrusts began as urgent and rough, knowing that she could take it and that he needed it so much that nothing else was an option.

He tangled one fist behind her head, his fingers becoming lost in those glorious curls, his other hand moving to her hip and then sliding around behind it, using a tight grip to pull her to him with every thrust. It wasn't long before he had her moaning loudly again, her sounds growing in both pitch and volume as a sheen of sweat glistened across her body. Tony could feel it on his own, letting them slide together perfectly, as though they matched, as though they were meant to do this.

He was beyond vocal as he found himself coming close to the edge, but absolutely refusing to let it happen until she found her own golden wave. That was pretty much a first for Tony, wanting his sexual partner to orgasm first, normally he was the selfish lover, trying to hold out for them, but not actually wanting to. He had a reputation to uphold after all. He could tell she was close, her face was screwed up in the most beautiful way, her eyebrows furrowed with pleasure as her hands moved around to splay her fingers across his back, her nails pressing in.

Tony quickly hooked his hand under her knee and lifted it to his waist, allowing himself to thrust deeper, knowing instantly that he had hit that mythical spot that men spent their lives searching for. Her cry was one he needed to hear again and he gave another rough thrust, then another, ensuring he hit her spot every time. Only as she reached her orgasm and the movement of her hips became desperate and needing, did Tony finally let himself go, his own hips launching into a brutal pace as he bit along her neck, crying out with her as he rode them through their orgasms, blind to anything apart from the sheer delight of his release and the sound of her crying his name out, an inch from his ear.

There was no way he could have moved after that, letting his body collapse on top of hers, burying his face into her hair as he tried to catch his breath. He hadn't planned to speak and didn't think she would have been able to for awhile either, but a minute or two after their shaking had stopped and their breathing returned to normal, he heard that beautiful voice fill the night again.

"Tony, why did you make me that glove?" That wasn't usually the kind of conversation that passed after sex, if Tony was even awake to converse. He raised himself off her a little, just to be able to look at her.

"I thought it would piss off Fury if you were using my equipment in the field." He said with a grin, gently brushing a curl from her forehead. The look on her face told him he wasn't fooled. "Alright fine. I remembered how happy you were when you tried mine at the last party. It was kind of an important moment for me." He admitted, kissing along the side of her jaw. "I _was_ dying after all."

"I'm glad you didn't." She said with a voice soft enough to make Tony smile.

"That is probably the nicest thing you have ever said to me." He said with a chuckle. He kissed the tattoo on her shoulder, knowing full well what was under it and that it was because of him. Reluctantly, he pulled out of her and managed to stand, though his legs were shaking slightly and for good reason. He looked down at her, the image of perfection in every possible way, sighing happily before he leaned down to extend a hand and help her up. They set about finding their clothes, succeeding for the most part, except for Natasha's underwear. Tony was straight faced as he subtly covered the black garment with sand as Natasha picked up her dress. She continued to look for another minute, pushing her foot though the sand, but neglecting to check the exact spot where Tony was purposely standing.

She gave up, much to Tony's joy and gave him a weary smile, pushing some locks away as the wind picked up and gently blew them into her face. "I have to report back to base." She said, even Tony could tell she didn't want to.

"Of course you don't." He said, knowing that if she was indecisive, he could nudge her toward a certain choice. "You are on official duty, ensuring Tony Stark stays out of trouble. That is a full time job, I assure you. That means you will have to stay overnight, or at least until the party ends." He walked toward her and before she could make any sort of expected protest, he slipped an arm under her knees and one behind her back, swinging her up into his arms. A beautiful sound rang out through the air, one he was not used to, one that seemed almost strange. It was the sound of Natasha Romanoff, actually laughing.

* * *

**Wrote this very late at night, which is the reasoning for a few bits and pieces not making sense, but I wanted to get it done. Also, I apologize if I made Tony seem overly sensitive and soppy in this one, but not really at the same time, because I love a softer Tony. The one behind the mask. **


	18. The Morning After

**Okay first of all, again thanks so much for the reviews, means a lot to me so please keep reviewing! Also, this chapter is really short and I'm sorry, I promise a **_**long**_** one next time, but I'm going away for a day or two with no way to write, so I wanted to quickly spin one out before I left. Because of that, I didn't read it through and there will probably be mistakes and there isn't much story progression, but it was a case of giving you a bad and short one, or making you wait for awhile for a decent one. My apologies in advance.**

* * *

Tony didn't often wake with a mood that suggested he was ready to take on the world, usually it was with a throbbing headache and a sour taste in his mouth. But the morning after his birthday, his eyes snapped open and he was aware of the refreshing wave that rolled over his body. For just a moment he forgot what had happened the night before, shifting slightly and surprising himself when he felt warm skin pressed against him. He turned his head to the side and was instantly engulfed with a mess of red curls, bringing a delicate smirk to his lips. He lifted his arm away from Natasha, though he would much rather have kept her naked body against him, nature wall calling him with a reminder of how much alcohol he had drunk the night before.

As carefully as he possibly could he moved to the edge of the bed, holding his breath as he tried to not to wake her. She shifted a little, letting out a quiet mumble and a rushed breath, which made Tony grin. But thankfully she didn't wake and Tony was able to get to his feet, pausing for a moment, just to look at her. She truly was, a breathtakingly beautiful woman, her face relaxed as sleep took hold. She was stretched out, her pale skin mostly hidden under the thick blankets. Tony noted the smearing of the fake tattoo on her shoulder, which was all but gone, having rubbed off during certain activities of the previous night. And then twice again some point that morning.

Those thoughts distracted Tony from his current task and he almost took a step toward her, his body already starting to like the idea of waking her up for a specific purpose. But no, he knew he should let her sleep. Reluctantly he moved to the bathroom, knowing that each foot step was probably enough to wake her.

After taking care of business, Tony washed his hands, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He almost didn't recognize the person staring back, usually there was a whole different persona reflected in that glass. This one didn't have the shading under the eyes, or the lines of worry etched across his skin. The hair was just as messy, but the relaxation of this man was evident. Tony looked healthier than he could remember, like he was back to his old self and he knew the cause.

Again he just watched her for a moment as he came back into his bedroom, leaning against the bathroom door frame. She had rolled over in the short time he was away, now lying on her back with one hand under her head, Tony couldn't help but wonder if she was in fact awake, purposely positioning her body in a way that made it hard for Tony to keep his jaw off the floor. In her new position, the blankets only covered anything below her waist, giving Tony full view of those inviting breasts.

He blinked and stared for a few seconds before shaking his head and grabbing a random pair of jeans from the closest draw. He tried to be silent, really tried. As much as he wanted to shake her awake and do unspeakable things to her, he knew she needed rest. He had put her through an emotional meat grinder recently, made all the worse considering she was clearly a person who did not understand their emotions. Or locked them away intentionally.

Tony slid the jeans on and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him. As expected, the house was a mess. It always was after such a party, furniture upturned, windows broken, glass everywhere. It looked as though a full on riot had swept though, not a wave of guests for a birthday party.

"Well look who finally crawled from his bed." Tony looked up as he came around to the kitchen, carefully stepping over smashed bottles. Bruce was standing by the far bench of the expansive room, wiping down the remains of what looked like an attempt to put 17 different foods in the blender.

"You know I actually have cleaning staff." Tony pointed out, heading straight for the coffee machine. He knew a lecture was coming from Bruce, he had learnt to expect them. He heard a sigh behind him and almost grinned, sometimes he wondered if he was actually psychic or just good at predicting people.

"Tony, Natasha was here last night." Bruce spoke as though trying not to aggravate Tony, which was ironic if anything, considering what usually happened to Bruce, if _he_ was aggravated.

"Is that so?" Tony replied, grabbing a cup from one of the shelves.

"She was worried about you. Obviously she thought you were in danger. Like I told you a hundred times." Bruce moved around so Tony had to look at him.

"Hey, there was an overabundance of SHIELD agents at that party. I was fine." Tony grinned at the doctor, before pouring his coffee in the mug and taking a deep drink, sighing contentedly. "Anyway, stop worrying." He added, dropping one hand on Bruce's shoulder. "Obviously I'm fine. I had a good night. A _really_ good night." He lowered his eyebrows suggestively, only causing Bruce to frown.

"Yes, I saw you go off with that blond. Natasha came to find you." Bruce was back to the tone that hinted his worry.

"Oh she found me." Tony grinned, well aware that Bruce was not on the same page as him.

"And you acted like an absolute idiot, didn't you?" Bruce sighed.

"Oh yes." Tony would freely admit to that. But there was no way to go back in time to stop himself from taking that girl to his room. Plus, he wouldn't want to. Natasha had walked in and the look on her face had shown Tony was a fool he was. Her running had caused him to chase, it was almost like that random nameless girl had actually brought them together finally. Although that was a little theory that Tony was _not_ going to voice out loud.

"So you know you probably have an angry assassin gunning for you?" Bruce quipped, not seeming too bothered by that particular concept.

"I don't think she's too angry." Tony shrugged.

"Who's angry?" A female called from the side of the kitchen and both men turned to see Natasha carefully picking her way through the sea of broken glass. The only thing she actually wore was one of Tony's well used and therefore slightly stretched T-shirts, sporting the ACDC logo and a storm of other images. As much as that tight fitting dress had made Tony drool over her, this was far worse. Seeing her in _his_ shirt, one of his favourites in fact, with those long bare legs just endlessly stretching out under it, was pure bliss and torture at the same time. He knew that if Bruce was not in the kitchen, he would have stepped over to rip that shirt off her and bend her over the kitchen table. Hell, he was ready to do it even with the doctor there.

"How did you sleep?" Tony asked flicking the coffee pot on again, well aware that she would be seeking one. He looked over to see Bruce just _staring_, probably because of her actual appearance and the fact that it was actually Natasha coming out of Tony's room for once, not some random woman who could barely remember where she was, the previous night being little more than a haze of alcohol induced frivolity.

"Better than I have in a while." Natasha answered him, giving Bruce a nod of greeting. "SHIELD beds are not known for their softness.

"I'm aware." Tony nodded, grabbing a cup for her. He glanced over at the doctor, unable to keep the smile from crossing his own face. "Bruce, do you have to stare, it's rude." Tony was clearly loving the whole situation, he was downright glee full to say the least.

"I uh, I think I uh…" Bruce tried to think of a reason to leave, gesturing over his shoulder as he walked backwards, but failed to get any viable sentences out. He turned and ducked his head, as though ashamed of seeing something he shouldn't, hurrying from the room, leaving Tony and Natasha alone.

The moment it was just the two of them, Tony grabbed Natasha and pulled her in for a heated kiss, obviously surprising her, though she responded instantly and made no move to pull away. He kept his hand to the back of her head, letting his fingers tangle in her curls slightly, his other hand moving to the back of her waist. With their chests pressed together, he was reminded that she was not wearing a bra and his grip on her tightened, not willing to let her go.

His lungs demanded air after awhile and he was forced to release her, noting the slight haze in her eyes and residual parting of her lips.

"What… what was that for…?" She asked a little dazedly, seeming to shake herself from the state quite quickly, looking up to him. "Not that I'm complaining of course."

"Good." Tony nodded, taking his hands from her but giving her a quick –though not so gentle- pat on her backside. She glared at him and he kept eye contact with her, grinning as his hand went back for a squeeze.

"I'll remove your fingers." She warned, though stood her ground, not actually moving out of his grasp.

"No, I need those." His grin widened and he held up two in a suggestive manner, wiggling them a little. He could see her trying not to smile, counting the endeavour as a success.

Natasha looked around at the mess, one hand coming up to pull Tony's waggling fingers down. "So, anything missing?" She asked.

"Good question." Tony replied, yawning before lazily glancing up to the roof. "JARVIS? Done a count yet?"

"Yes sir." JARVIS answered, as obedient as always. "So far the count is at 35 items of varying value. A full list and identities of those responsible is available for viewing."

"Excellent, just execute the usual punishment." Tony grinned, looking back to Natasha, who raised a single eyebrow, clearly asking for him to elaborate. "JARVIS values the items that were taken, whether it be food or a priceless art work. He locates the person behind it and takes the exact value from their bank accounts."

Natasha rolled her eyes and moved over to pour herself a coffee. "Because you aren't rich enough already." She muttered sarcastically.

"Actually, the money is donated directly to charity." Tony corrected her with a shrug. He met her eyes as she turned back to him, her expression suggesting she was trying to read him. "Oh come on, you really think I'm the pretentious egotistical bastard that I appear to be most of the time?" He took her mug from her hand, setting it down on the bench before encircling his arms around her.

"Not anymore." She answered truthfully, wrapping her arms around his waist. The action made him smile, if he was truthful to himself, before all this happened with her, he would never have thought of her as a hugger. He knew that hadn't exactly changed, that it was just himself that she had allowed herself to hug. And Tony was glad for that, he was beginning to consider her as _his_ and Tony could be a jealous man when it came to the crunch. Especially regarding things that meant everything to him.


	19. So Wrong

**Warning for smut.**

* * *

Natasha knew that everything about her whole situation with Tony was just wrong. And not the kind of story book romance that was so wrong but felt so right, it was just wrong. She was not a woman who was supposed to fall for anybody and she was fighting tooth and nail against those feelings, even as they completely consumed her. It was wrong for her to watch Tony as he made her breakfast, swearing as he burnt the eggs and spilled the orange juice across the bench. It was wrong for her to smile slightly as she grabbed a cloth to clean it up. And it was certainly wrong for her to drop the cloth and run her hands through his hair as he suddenly grabbed her and pulled her into a deep kiss as she tried to clean up his mess.

It was all so very wrong. She could see how illogical it was, how none of it made sense. But that didn't stop her from kissing him back, it didn't stop her hands from roaming his body, her fingers running down his shirtless back, feeling the toned muscles that were often hidden under expensive business suits. Natasha Romanoff did not fall for men. They fell for her. It was the natural order. She twisted minds to get what she wanted from them, to get the information she needed, to complete the mission and get the job done.

There was not supposed to be a reciprocation of feelings towards Tony. But he wasn't a job. She had been instructed to watch him, to ensure there was no chaotic events like the usual ones that followed him around. She didn't have orders to get anything from him, there was no need to extract information. She was kissing him because she wanted to. Even though it was wrong.

She pulled back from the kiss to look at him, seeing the grin that had so often bothered her. But now not so much.

"Why are you smiling like that?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, seeing the grin only widen.

"Mainly because I have an _insanely_ attractive assassin in my arms." He answered, his lips moving to her neck. She tried to ignore the tingles that spiralled from his points of contact, but she was well aware of the contented look that had spread across her face.

"I have to get back to SHIELD." She murmured quietly, hating that she had to ruin whatever kind of moment they were having. "I need to check in. They'll want a full report of last night's events."

"And what are you going to tell them?" Tony asked, holding her tighter against him as his hands moved under the shirt she was wearing, roaming up her sides to trace the shape of her torso.

"I haven't decided yet." Her mind was a mess, what was she supposed to tell Fury? He knew she had slept with Tony while on the run and she was betting he would somehow know the details of the previous night to a certain extent. The man was not an idiot, he was more intelligent than even she would ever realize and he knew everything about everyone. There was a budding concern that had started to manifest in her mind but she was trying to push it back down. If he thought she was getting too close to Tony, she was assuming he would reassign her. Somewhere out of state, across the world. Somewhere that she would not be compromised.

That was if she wasn't compromised already. Which was something she hadn't quite figured out yet. Surely if she wasn't compromised by Tony then she wouldn't be worrying about being sent across the world.

"Tony, I-" She began to speak but had no idea what she wanted to say. Was she going to warn him that Fury would most likely put her on a plane with new orders? Or would she just hope that wouldn't happen.

"Yes Natasha?" Tony replied in a husky voice, one that sent chills running through her. Those chills were not able to disappear as she felt his hand move between her legs and her own hands shot up to his shoulders, her fingers digging in slightly. She wanted him to stop, or, she thought she did. But she made no move to actually physically stop him. She sighed lightly, tilting her head back as he began to rub her teasingly and feeling the pressure of his lips against her neck increase. He moved her backwards until she felt the table behind her.

He spun her round, his hands on his hips to turn her so she was facing away from him and she splayed her hands on the table as he pressed against her from behind, shivering slightly as his lips found her ear.

"Shall I stop so you can head off to SHIELD?" He murmured, his breath sending more chills through her. She pressed her lips together tightly as his hand snaked around her middle and returned to its place between her legs. In her head she cursed him, for making her feel like this. It was wrong, she wasn't supposed to be like this. And yet, once again, she made no move stop him. Only shook her head in answer to his teasing question.

She gasped as he leaned down, forcing her to lie her chest across the table, weighted by his own torso. He lifted up the back of her shirt and she heard the unbuckling on his pants before he spread her legs and pushed into her from behind. There was a delighted smile on her face as she moaned, her fingers gripping the closest edge of the table, her hips moving back against him.

She groaned in protest as he pulled out of her, sliding with ease due to how wet she already was for him. He kissed the back of her neck, letting out a groan himself as he pushed into her once again, this time more harshly and adding a thrust so the table creaked under the weight of both of them. She turned her head as he straightened up, seeing his eyes were closed and his lips were parted as much as hers were, knowing the expression of lust across his face was mirrored on her own.

She moaned again as he thrust into her, his hands moving to the sides of her hips to gain leverage. She angled her body to allow him deeper, widening her stand a little and feeling an electric jolt of pleasure as he slid in slightly further. The size of him was impressive and as much as she hated to admit it, he'd had good reason to have such an inflated ego over the years. He could certainly walk the walk as much as he could talk to talk.

She pushed her hips back against him roughly and was rewarded with a powerful thrust from him, that carried into a delicious rhythm. Their moans came in unison as she felt his weight on her back again, his hands moved to interlink with her fingers and he held them on either side of her head, pinning her down and gaining leverage at the same time. His groans were in her ear as he kissed her neck and she had to close her eyes to enjoy the amount of pleasure spiralling through her.

It was so wrong.

She knew there would be bruising on the front of her hips from the edge of the table and that would be hard to explain to the medical doctors at SHIELD, but it was the last of her worries as Tony pulled out of her and spun her again, bringing her to face him and pushing her back to perch on the edge of the table. He pulled her thighs apart and placed one hand to the back of her head, bringing her in for an intoxicating kiss as he used his other hand to guide himself into her.

She moaned loudly as she felt him within her once again, wrapping her legs around his waist and locking her ankles behind him. She all too willingly opened her mouth to allow his tongue to battle with hers, her hands running up his arms as his explored beneath her shirt. His thrusting was as incessant as it had been before, rough and fast, more powerful that she would have expected from him.

She felt him jerk slightly as she bit his bottom lip and she pulled back to smile deviously at him, seeing the determination in his eyes. She cried out in sheer delight as he gave a thrust designed for one purpose only, to slam into that spot deep inside her. She gave him points for managing to keep up that action and the air was filled with her cries and moans as he slammed into that spot time and time again. Soon enough she was coming undone around him and she was thrusting against him as hard as she could but with no rhythm as the orgasm took her and he helped her ride through it.

Only as she was finishing did she realize he was too, by the absolute desperation in his thrusts as he moaned in her ear. He had taken her mind from her body and filled both with so much pleasure that she had broken from her surroundings, only finding them again as the golden orgasm ebbed. Her legs released their hold from him and dropped to lazily rest her feet on the floor as they both gave a last few slow thrusts, selfishly using the other for pleasure while simultaneously selflessly giving the pleasure that the other desired.

Natasha was left gasping and panting as her body shook, her arms positioned around Tony's shoulders to try and hold herself up. But she could feel his arms around her and for some absurd reason she felt as if he wouldn't let her fall anyway.

She smiled as she became even more aware of her surrounding and the scent of sex reached her nostrils. She breathed it in, noticing it had a unique blend of both their own scents though his was stronger by far. Or maybe she was just used to her own. Either way, his scent was becoming familiar to her and she relished it.

But she knew that was wrong. So wrong.

She wasn't sure how long it was before either of them spoke, she had no sense of time with him. She could be thrown into a darkened basement and be tortured for days, fully aware of exactly how long it had been since she had seen daylight. But with Tony, time seemed to be defying its nature. It could have been seconds, minutes or hours, she couldn't tell.

They seemed so content to simply stay in each other's arms, their chests moving together as they caught their breath. It was Tony that broke the silence between them, his words shocking her.

"Fury is going to send you away, isn't he?"

She was fully aware of how his arms tightened around her, his head burying into her neck as if to disappear into her hair. As if he could hold her in his arms and stop her from being sent away by the man who ran the most powerful organization in the world. She hadn't realized Tony would be aware of what Fury would do, but then again, Tony was probably the most intelligent person she knew. He flaunted his genius but there was still so much more that people didn't understand. Of course he would figure out how Fury would deal with this. And she would not lie to Tony about it, even if she had been considering keeping it from him.

"I think so." She said quietly, closing her eyes and breathing in his scent. If she had doubts about Tony's feelings for her, perhaps she would have thought he wouldn't be too bothered that Fury would separate her from him. But, the way she felt him clutch her, like a child who was afraid his teddy bear was going to be taken, told her that he truly did not want her to go.

And once again, she was reminded that this was wrong.

JARVIS was the one to pull her from her thoughts and she looked up as the voice of Tony's AI filled the messy kitchen.

"_Sir? Director Fury in on the line, he wishes for yourself and agent Romanoff to make an appearance at headquarters as soon as possible_."

"Thank you JARVIS." Tony answered with a voice bordering on the usual sarcastic tone. He kissed the top of Natasha's head gently before moving to her lips for a slightly harsher kiss, one she returned with just as much force. "Well I guess you better hop off to headquarters." He said with a roll of his eyes. He kissed her once more before slowly moving back and sliding out of her. She missed the feel of him inside her, but gave no reaction to that.

"You know you have to come too." She pointed out, fixing her shirt as she stood up. She looked up to see Tony staring at her chest longingly. She was about to make a pointed comment when he met her eyes and smiled.

"Have I told you how goddam sexy you look in that shirt?" He asked, his hands running up her sides on the outer of her shirt, not beneath it. She didn't answer, she sensed he was trying to get her to lead him into a joke and she was not willing to oblige. Her hand came up to rub a gentle thumb over the stubble on the side of his cheek and she gave him a small smile.

"Stop stalling, you know you need to come in to SHIELD." She said with a serious face, dropping the smile.

"Fine." He sighed, hunching his shoulders in a childish way, though it was hardly effective considering how downright attractive he was. Natasha snaked her arms around his neck, delivering a soft kiss that she was not exactly known for. She felt his surprise as he stiffened slightly but he was kissing her back almost immediately, locking his arms around her, lifting her off the ground slightly. She melted into his embrace, even as she _hated_ the fact that she was melting into his embrace, the movements of their lips being nothing but soft and gentle. Caring and caressing.

Yes, this was definitely wrong. She needed to convince herself that, but she was failing immensely.


	20. Conflicted

Tony paced the corridors of SHIELD with a speed that could blatantly display his anger. The agents that he passed were quick to move out of his way, not used to seeing the sarcastic billionaire in such a mood. Normally he was full of inappropriate jokes and painfully bad timed remarks, but his face held a shadow that could have belonged to an entirely different person. There was no gleeful smile in his knowing eyes, no distasteful smirk at the edges of his lips. He was completely furious and it showed.

SHIELD had sent a car to pick up Tony and Natasha from the Malibu mansion, well not so much a car but an armoured truck that held several flanking agents. Clearly sent to make sure Tony and Natasha made it to their destination. He had seen the look on Natasha's face before she wiped her expression to a more neutral appearance and he had picked up on her worry. Apparently multiple escorting agents was a very bad sign. Tony was beginning to be a little concerned that her being sent away was a real possibility.

Neither of them had spoken during the trip back to base, as if they had been prisoners who did not have speaking rights. Fury had been waiting for them when the truck arrived, but he had barely spared Tony a look before he had ushered Natasha into the base and several agents had physically stopped Tony from following them. It seemed like Natasha had done something horrifically betraying to SHIELD, instead of simply sleeping with a man she was supposed to be stopping from getting into trouble. It was hardly fair, in Tony's opinion.

And so he had paced the corridors, trying to find out what was happening. His main problem was that no one wanted to answer his questions. He had visited the enormous lab that he shared with Bruce and the doctor had been present, which didn't really surprise him, but he had been in the dark about what was happening with Natasha. He felt like he had been at the base for hours and hours, whereas in reality it had only been about two. His impatience seemed to drag time out and his decreasing mood wasn't helping very much.

When an agent found him to let him know the Director was seeking him, Tony nearly sprinted to the location that agent gave him. He paused before slamming the door open, he would not give Fury the satisfaction of knowing he had made Tony lose his composure. He took a breath and grabbed the handle, not bothering to knock before he opened the door.

It was an office room of sorts, Tony was fully aware that it was not a room Fury would have visited frequently, it was devoid of anything useful other than a desk and two chairs on either side of it. It reminded Tony of the older styled police interview rooms that were featured so often in classic cop action/dramas. He looked to the steel wall, wondering if it was truly a cleverly concealed 2 way mirror. The thought was pushed from his mind when he realized he did not give a shit in the slightest. He focused his attention on the only other occupant in the room, a man he detested who was standing on the other side of the simple desk.

Wearing a long black trench coat and an eye patch to match, Fury held an expression that told Tony he was not amused. Good, that made two of them.

"Have you nothing better to do than walk my halls and harass my staff Stark?" Fury asked, placing his hands behind his back. Tony knew how well this man could play his poker face, but he had always noticed a _tiny_ throbbing vein at the side of Fury's right temple when he was agitated. That vein was visible to Tony at that moment, letting him breathe a little easier. It always pleased him to stick a proverbial thorn in Fury's boot.

"I'm pretty certain I've toned down on the harassing, _Fury."_ Tony nearly spat the name, showing his distaste. "The complaint numbers have been way down recently, so your female staff must be less hesitant about coming into work these days." It was true, Tony had tried to get into the pants of nearly every female staff member under the jurisdiction of SHIELD. He had actually succeeded with the vast majority of them. Considering they were supposed to be highly trained agents with excellent judgement, it was surprising how easily he could get them to take their clothes off. Barely more than a wink and a vulgar whisper in their ears. Though of course, there was always the minority group that had somehow found the will power to say no to him, those women had filed complaints and Tony had found Fury so far up his ass about it, that he would have thought jealousy was in the air. Yet Fury didn't seem to enjoy the envy jokes that Tony made at his expense.

"Yes, I'm aware you have found a certain agent to focus all of your harassment on." Fury replied, his tongue clicking over his syllables, showing an equal distaste that mirrored Tony's.

"And?" Tony goaded, taking a step forward. "I'm not aware of any complaint that she had filed. She seems like she can handle herself." Fury narrowed his eyes, or at least the one he had left, an action that created a rather intimidating expression across his face, one that didn't even send a shiver down Tony's spine. He had faced death too many times to be frightened of a man like Fury, even if there were many others that would be shaking in their boots during a one on one meeting.

"So where is she?" Tony asked after a moment of heated silence, drilling right down to the bedrock of the meeting. He could have sworn that the look in Fury's one eye was suddenly gleeful, even if the rest of his face remained blank and expressionless. Except for that telling vein on his right temple.

"She has been reassigned." Fury spoke slowly, annunciating his words, as if he wanted to enjoy the impact they would have on Tony. And they certainly had an impact. Tony clenched his fists, gritting his teeth with an anger that rolled through him in waves. The very thing he had been afraid of, was now a reality.

"When does she leave?" He demanded, fearing the answer.

"Her plane left an hour ago." Fury said calmly. The throbbing vein disappeared, signalling that Tony was rapidly losing the upper hand of their conversation. There was no way to tell if Fury was lying, but Tony assumed the man would have sent Natasha off as soon as he could and certainly before seeking a meeting with Tony. In case of the scenario that was running through Tony's mind, where he would run through the base, trying to find Natasha. If she was long gone, then he had no way to get to her.

"While I have you here," Fury continued, his posture relaxing even more, "I should probably let you know that Stark Industries has been stripped of most of its authorisation codes. The inner workings of SHIELD information trails, have been removed from your grasp. To avoid more incidents of treachery." He made it seem as if Tony had let the traitors of SHIELD into his computer systems on purpose. As if the infection of SHIELD had been Tony's fault. But he understood the meaning behind Fury's words, he was telling him that Natasha's whereabouts and mission information would be withheld from him.

That wouldn't stop Tony from digging, but he was willing to bet Fury had taken special precautions against him. His mind was running at full speed, processing everything it could at once. Fury was a smart man, Tony would acknowledge that fact and he knew his agents well. If he thought it was necessary to actually step in and separate Natasha from Tony, then Tony assumed that Fury was aware of Natasha's feelings on the matter. Clearly there was reasoning for the Director to want to keep his top assassin away from anything that conflicted her. Meaning Natasha was becoming conflicted.

Tony felt… strange about that. It was odd for him to _want_ someone to have feelings for him. Women seemed to fall for him so easily and if he was honest, it was a boost to his ego, not to mention it became easy to sleep with them again if he wanted. But he didn't actually want them to have feelings for him, he just wanted to abuse the connection they felt for him and use them for sex. Harsh, but true. And yet with Natasha, he wanted those feelings to be reciprocated, not to use her, but to keep her.

He wondered what she had said when Fury told her she was being reassigned. Had she saluted and jumped on the first available jet? Had she argued against her orders? The latter did not seem likely in the slightest, not that Natasha was a soldier that lived and breathed her orders like the Captain did, but she was certainly one to follow her commanding officer. And Fury was certainly her commander.

"There's no way you are going to tell me where she is, are you." Tony drawled, aware of the answer completely. Fury folded his arms and shook his head, showing his resolution in the matter. Undeterred and certainly angrier, Tony stalked from the room, his lips set in a hard line, his eyes narrowed to show his stubbornness. There were few people who could tell Tony what to do or what _not_ to do; Pepper, recently Natasha and of course a man who was the vessel for the Hulk. A very short list that did not have Fury's name on it.

* * *

Natasha stood by the window of her hotel room, her back facing a door that had three separate locks drawn across it and a chair propped under the handle to jam it shut. After the treacherous fiasco of her last mission, she was taking no chances. Her skin pricked at the slightest noise, even if it came from an entirely external source, like the alarm of the car down the street which was broken into as Natasha watched from her vantage point. The thieves snatched the stereo and a few other bits and pieces, including the seat covers.

"Leeches." She murmured as she watched them glance around and sprint off down the street, the alarm of the car still blaring. She was in an area of Cairo that was not exactly known for its low crime rate and in her first twenty minutes of reaching the city, she had witnessed three separate crimes. Though of course they were ignored, she was not there to police the people and she took no notice. She was there as a type of rescuer, to locate two agents that had not checked in after the recall had been sounded after SHIELD had been infiltrated. There were multiple reasons behind such an occurrence, they could have been too deep in their cover to risk breaking it, they could be dead, or they could be traitors of SHIELD. Either way, Natasha would find them.

It was a milk run compared to her usual missions, she was well aware of Fury's direct reason for sending her across the world, to keep her away from Tony. Maybe it was for the best, she could feel her confliction every moment that the handsome billionaire's face had been running through her mind. She would lose her focus on her view from the tinted window, her eyes glazing over as she remembered the softness of his skin and the power of his hips. He was compromising her and she knew that was dangerous, especially in the field. Tony had barely left her mind since she had stepped into the Quinn jet, a small bag slung over her shoulder.

The high security of Egypt's borders ensured she had to find weapons on the ground and could bring none with her. Usually SHIELD had an amazing amount of lee-way with such things, but the delicacy of the government in Egypt was not to be trifled with. SHIELD was staying out as much as they could, though in saying that, Natasha was betting that they were more involved than anybody even realized. That was the SHIELD way, playing the peace keepers while they poked at the snake nest with sticks.

For the moment she was without any weapons, though she didn't consider herself defenceless, she never would. Anything could be wielded against an enemy, any item in her room could be used to kill. She checked her watch, seeing it was exactly half past three in the afternoon, local time. There was a short knock on the door, which seemed promising, considering it was the time her weapon supplier was supposed to arrive. Fury had explained her partner would meet her on the ground and bring her a predetermined assortment of weapons. She crossed the room and placed her ear to the door, rapping her fists against the chipped wood in a specific pattern. There was a reply from the other side, a coded knock that prompted her to step back and pull at the heavy bolts that had secured the door so far.

She turned the handle with one hand and grabbed a kitchen knife from the small table beside the door. Definitely taking no chances. She moved back slightly as she opened the door, her arm coming up ready to strike if needed. Her grip faltered and she almost dropped the knife as she saw the identity of her partner, not that she should have been as surprised as she was.

"Well?" Clint adjusted the heavy black bag that was hung off his shoulder as he half heartedly grinned at her, "Are you going to let me in or keep me out in this hall where I'll be subjected to the lawlessness of the city?"

* * *

**Seriously, thanks yet again for the reviews and please keep it up, I mean it when I say the reviews keep this story going.**


	21. A Foolish Hope

Clint felt no shame or predatory as he watched the Black Widow sleep, his eyes flicking from the window, to the door and back to the slumbering form of the woman he was guarding with his life. Every rise and fall of her chest reminded him that she was alive and well, though otherwise her body was entirely still. Her skin had always carried a ghostly pale color, most likely due in a large part to her own genetics, but then again Natasha Romanoff was hardly known as a woman who liked to dwell at the beach. No, she was more for the shadows of the night, where screams could be silenced and blood could be spilt.

Clint liked to think that he knew her better than anyone, he liked to think that he was the closest thing she had to a family. Perhaps that was a stroke of his ego, perhaps not. He knew for a fact that he was one of the _very_ few people on Earth that she could trust. It showed by the way she could actually fall asleep under his sole guard. He knew she would not have slept on the journey, if it had been another agent that was stationed as her partner, she would not be sleeping now. But she clearly trusted Clint to ensure her safety so that she could rest and recharge herself, in case of danger.

That didn't mean she wasn't alert, Clint was very aware that if he moved, if he even _breathed_ too loudly, she would be up and reached for the gun under her pillow before anybody could blink. So he tried to stay as still as possible, an easy feat for someone raised in a circus environment. He was perched in a chair by the window, seated at an angle so that he faced everything he needed to see and still could not be seen by anyone outside the building. Natasha had barely spoken a word to him after his arrival, at first she had made it clear she was not pleased about this trickery and Clint had tried to explain there was no trick. He assured her that Fury had come to _him_ for assistance in this mission, not the other way round.

Total lies of course, Clint had all but demanded to be partnered with Natasha on this one but Fury hadn't needed much convincing. He'd been able to see how tired Natasha was, not so much physically, but emotionally. She had a lot on her mind, even if she wasn't willing to admit that to him and he was smart enough to figure out that it would have centred around Tony. Tony Stark. Clint's eyes narrowed as they focused back on Natasha after another circle round the room. The sound of his knuckles cracking was louder than he anticipated, but to his mild surprise, his ward did not awake. Her lips were slightly parted as she slept soundly, if she was plagued by her usual nightmares, she gave no evidence of it. How many times had Clint dreamed of kissing those lips? Those full, luscious lips that promised to be a wild ride of heavenly desire. He longed to stroke his hand across her cheek, to feel the silky smooth skin that enticed him so much.

He knew her scent, he knew her face, he knew everything about her that there was to know. No one would ever understand Natasha as well as he did. They were meant for each other and one day, he would see that. She wasn't meant for Tony, she was worth more than a cheap fuck and a string of one night stands. Clint knew that whatever was happening between them would not last. Tony wanted nothing more than to feel Natasha's legs wrapped around him but Clint wanted everything else. He wanted more than the fruits of her flesh, he wanted her mind. He knew her. Tony did not. The egotistical bastard was going to get bored, as he always did. Hell, he was probably bored already, most likely off at the local bar, flashing that trademark grin in an effort to tear the clothes off a horny waitress.

Movement from the bed caught his attention and he realized he had zoned out completely, his mind reeling with his hatred of Tony Stark as he stared at his balled fists. He looked up to see Natasha's eyes flicking open slowly, but the haze in them evaporated impossibly fast, showing just how fast she could go from being asleep to being awake. Clint smiled ever so slightly as he watched her mind work through its usual routine. Her hand reached under the pillow, feeling for her gun. Then her eyes flicked to the door, to search for sign of intrusion, next to the window to look for the same thing. Finally they came to rest on him and only then did she sit up, her crimson curls cascading over one of her shoulders as she met his gaze.

"How long was I asleep?" She asked, her voice showing no signs of fatigue in the slightest. Clint smiled internally, he was willing to bet that Natasha's own sense of time had already figured out all that. But he answered her anyway, if only to encourage her to talk to him and let that silken voice fall upon his ears again.

"Less than an hour." He said, leaning back in his chair, his hands relaxing and dropping the tension of his fists. The fingerless leather on his hands made a constricting noise as his hands flattened and he was aware of Natasha's eyes moving to the source of the sound. In about two seconds, he watched her process everything and knew she was aware that his fists had been tightly clenched. Again, he smiled inside, she never missed a thing. As much as he knew her, she knew him. Perhaps better than anyone. "You are welcome to try and get some more rest." He told her, drawing her eyes back to his. "We don't have to make the rendezvous for another hour." He wasn't surprised as she shook her head, sitting up a little straighter and running her hands through her hair. If she was attempting to tidy the curls, she failed and they fell about her shoulders again, framing her face in the most beautiful way.

"I got enough rest." She said simply and Clint nodded. They could each run on small amounts of sleep, all it took was a nap to recharge themselves and they were ready to take on the world. There was a silence hanging in the air that held no awkwardness. He couldn't actually remember a time when there had been an awkward moment between them. Plenty of uncomfortable ones, plenty of painful ones, physically and emotionally, but never awkward. He watched as she stood, her limbs moving with impossible grace, even though they were completing such simple motions. She stepped away from the bed and stretched, merely raising her arms above her head and leaning to the side slightly. Clint knew she had the flexibility of a Chinese acrobat and he could only imagine how amazing that skill could be during certain activities. His eyes lingered across her body for longer than was probably safe, how many men had she killed for even looking at her in such a way? How many men had _he_ killed for exactly the same thing?

* * *

Natasha was still rather pissed off about what she considered to be something of an ambush, being sent to Cairo and suddenly finding out that Clint was to be her partner. Not that she would have said no if Fury had properly briefed her beforehand. In fact given the choice, she would have most likely actually requested that Clint come along with her. She was the only one in the agency that she trusted apart from Fury himself. She had been betrayed by an agent recently and she would have gotten whiplash if she had to continuously watch a new partner, ready for any sort of attack.

But Clint… were things okay between them? He seemed stressed, but at least happy to be there with her. When she saw him last he was completely out of control, aggressive had been putting it mildly. She was certain he was close to killing Tony. She didn't know what was going on with him, she barely knew what was going on with herself. She was notorious for being in control, even when she played the victim and yet her emotions were ruling her at the moment and they weren't even clear in what they wanted. Part of her wanted to be near Tony, to feel his hands running through her hair and his lips crushed against hers. Part of her was ashamed at such thinking and reminded her that she was not allowed to feel such things. She was a monster, an assassin who had given up her chance for things like that. She swam in her river of blood and soon she would drown in it. She was treading the water but for how long? Every day she risked her life and every day he wondered if it would be her last. That was how she was meant to live, not happily.

She wasn't the princess living in the fairy tale, if anything she was the villain. Tony may have been the prince but he was certainly not there to rescue her. She was aware of Clint's eyes on her, but she could see the were hardly focusing, his thoughts were on something entirely different.

"Clint-" She turned toward him fully, wanting to speak but he cut her off almost immediately, not that she was complaining, she had no idea what she even wanted to stay.

"Look, I was an ass." He said plainly, standing from his chair and moving his bow to hang of his shoulder. He didn't say anything, she wasn't going to argue with his blatant comment, she was in full agreement. "Can we just forget-"

"It's forgotten." She said, cutting him off this time. She saw the corner of his lips twitch slightly and just like that, it was if someone had hit the reset button. They were back to normal, as if it truly was forgotten. "You can get some rest, if you want." She said, not bothering to match his smile, aware that he wouldn't be expecting her to. He shook his head, moving past her with his arms stretching over his head.

"I'm good, but if you want to play guard dog while I take a bathroom break, it would be much appreciated." He grinned at her over his shoulder before he disappeared into the bathroom and Natasha dropped into the chair he had been occupying previously. She glanced out the window, more out of something to look at than checking the perimeter. Tony's face entered her mind again and she felt a moment of wild frustration. He was distracting her from the mission that infuriated her. Yet in the back of her mind she was wondering if he was having the same problem, though she highly doubted it. Tony Stark was not the type of man to find himself thinking on a particular woman and Natasha wasn't idiotic enough to think she would be anything special in Tony's view. Every second that she spent away from him seemed to hammer in the fact that it had been some kind of fling between them and nothing else. She couldn't allow those budding thoughts within her mind take hold, the idea of it being more than a fling was absurd in every way. Impossible, implausible and illogical.

Still, there was a tiny hope that refused to die, a hope that wherever Tony was, whatever he was doing, Natasha's face was entering his mind and distracting him as well.

* * *

Sparks flew and fizzled as Tony released his frustration on a few scraps of useless metal, cutting them with an ion beam that held too much power for such a menial task. But he needed to do something simple, something that required more effort than a quadratic equation with quantum physic overlays. He'd tried to do math, he'd even tried writing some new algebraic codes to upgrade JARVIS's internal systems. But after so many keystrokes, his preloaded programs took over, as intelligent as he had designed them, they could solve any possible equation put through and in seconds, anything he started to add was completed for him. The idea was to distract himself and he had to resort to physical work. Using his ion beam to cut up metal was like enlisting the Hulk to open a pickle jar. Redundant, but ultimately effective. The goal was achieved, but what was the point?

Tony sighed as Natasha's face entered his mind for about the fifth time in the last few minutes, he waved his hand to signal JARVIS, letting the AI know to turn the music up even further, blasting ACDC at a level that threatened his permanent hearing. He pulled up his wielding mask and just tossed it aside, like a child having tantrum because his favourite toy had been taken away. That was how Tony felt, but Natasha was so much more than a toy. He flicked off the ion beam and set the device aside, blinking as he realized he had cut through the workbench and even through the floor in some places. He shrugged and reached for the glass at the edge of the table, thankful that it had survived along with the bottle of whiskey beside it. His vision was nearly stationary so he knew he had a long way to go before operating heavy machinery would be a problem. That meant flying his suit would be no drama and it might have been the perfect thing he needed to clear his head.

Fury had more or less warned him that he needed to lay low and avoid using the suit, but Tony didn't care what he said. Maybe if he went out for a spin then he would meet some resistance from SHIELD and with the mood he was in, a fight was most welcome. He wanted Natasha back, he wanted her in his arms, he wanted her in his bed, he wanted her against the wall. He just… wanted her. It scared him how much he was thinking about her and how each second away from her was killing him. This wasn't him, he didn't feel this strongly about females; to him they had usually just been a more elegant version of wham bam thank you ma'am. But not Natasha, god no. He wanted to roll over the next morning and enjoy every inch of her again. And again. When she came back from whatever bullshit mission Fury had sent her on, he was going to make sure she understood how he felt about her. And if she didn't come back, then Tony would just have to go to her…


	22. Admission

Tony had always been considered as an intelligent person. Even from an exceptionally young age there had never been a point when anybody wondered if he would have any trouble whatsoever getting into collage, or finding a promising career. It helped that his father had left one hell of a legacy with his company, but Tony could have had the same success.

If he found a problem, he created a solution, it was as simple as that. A skill that could be transferred from any problem to another different type. Currently his problem was locating a specific little red head that refused to leave his mind. He hadn't seen her in almost two days and after a night of wallowing in his own alcohol infused self pity, he had decided to be proactive about it.

SHIELD had locked him out of a good deal of their inner systems, which didn't bother him entirely because there was nothing much in there that interested him. Other than Natasha's personal files and all her mission information. He had started small, designing a program that was essentially facial recognition software. No big deal, a few hundred thousand equations that could locate a face in a crowd to 99% accuracy. The harder part was finding a way to launch it.

SHIELD had access to every satellite that was orbiting the Earth. Every single one could be hacked into and rerouted in a manner of seconds. The organization was like a weed, tangled around the roots of the world, poisoning everything while they claimed to be keeping order. The satellites were off limits unless he wanted Fury to know exactly what he was doing. He did make a single attempt to hack into one of them and found the security and the firewall had been advanced very recently. Clearly to keep a certain billionaire from getting inside.

That was fine, he had expected such a thing and was undeterred. Even if he did get in –which he would have—Fury would have known it was Tony breaching the firewall and there would be hell to pay. Forcing Tony to think of alternative methods. It was a problem, but he was very good at creating solutions.

There was a nagging little thought at the back of his mind, suggesting that Natasha didn't want him to track her down, but he couldn't let that thought take hold. She felt something for him, he knew it, he wasn't a fool and he had been aware of the way she was slowly letting him in. He had called her the Ice Queen for so long, a name that was entirely justified but he had seen the warmth in her. Not to mention felt the warmth of her body and lived to tell the tale. Frankly if he looked at it logically, he should have expected his throat to be cut.

He was winning her over, he was certain of it. And that prompted him to find her. He needed to make sure she was okay. There was a desperate need to protect her, an urge to ensure her safety even though he was well aware that she could protect herself. It was odd to feel so chivalrous, that was more like something he would tease the Captain about, not something he would experience himself.

Tony didn't look up as he heard the doors to the lab open, the fingers of his left hand were tapping across the stainless steel bench to a foreign rhythm, the fingers of his right hand were flying across the projected screens that hung in the air, running constant simulations.

"When was the last time you slept?" Bruce's voice rung out through the air and quiet footsteps approached from behind, echoing around the lab since the usual music was not blasting from the high powered speakers.

"12 years ago. It was a Tuesday, I believe." Tony muttered, his eyes flicking across his holographs, his lips continued to move as he muttered to himself, making a note to the side with a lazy scrawl of his finger.

"Alright, when was the last time you ate?" Bruce asked, moving around to Tony's field of vision, but the billionaire didn't take his focus from the screens.

"Who are you, my mother?" Tony snorted, licking his dry lips and reaching for the glass at the side of the table. It was empty but he didn't refill it, despite the nearly full bottle of expensive alcohol that was easily within his reach. Bruce raised an eyebrow at this, seemingly surprised but he didn't actually comment on the matter.

"I am not your mother, I am your friend." Bruce answered slowly, as though he was choosing his words carefully. "And as your friend-"

"You think I should stop looking for her?" Tony swivelled in his chair to face Bruce, his hands dropping to the table, giving the other scientist his full attention.

"No. I don't. But I do think you should stop trying to poke a stick into Fury's remaining eye." Bruce clasped his hands together. "You know that will only end badly."

"Well there's already one shoved up his ass, so I'm limited on options of where to poke a stick." Tony drawled, a little of that sarcastic flair seeping into his voice.

"Tony I'm serious." Bruce said, his face dropping anything other than severity. "She's on a mission, she'll be back when it's over."

Tony stood so fast that the chair almost toppled back, lifting of its wheels on one side for a moment before dropping back to be level again. "What if she doesn't come back? What if Fury sends her on another bullshit mission, then another then another, then another?" His tone was demanding, as if Bruce was obligated to answer him.

"It is her job Tony. She gets sent where she is needed. She isn't exactly a waitress at a local restaurant, she's a spy, an _assassin_. What do you expect?"

"I expect her to be here!" Tony exclaimed, clearly angry. His rage came from nowhere, spiralling up and through his body, taking a desperate hold. "I expect her to be here, with me!"

Bruce gave him a pitying look that he absolutely detested. "Why Tony, why." He asked, as though Tony were a child that needed to explain himself.

"Because I fucking love her!" Tony snapped, his voice part way between an exclamation of his feelings and a snarl. Bruce looked surprised, which matched how Tony felt, but he didn't find himself hurrying to take back his words and Bruce didn't ask him if he had said that by mistake. His face clearly showed his feelings.


	23. Recognition

The night was dark enough to potentially cause an ominous feeling in anybody unlucky enough to be venturing out under the moonless sky, thick clouds obscured any of the light that would be trying to shine down from on high. Natasha and Clint felt no such ominous feelings, though they were aware of how crushing the darkness was, both aiding them and hampering them, allowing them to be as invisible as they pleased, along with anybody they were trying to find. The mission had taken a turn for the worse the moment they left their hotel and discovered the rendezvous point to be a complete bust. The agent they were trying to locate was dead and had been for some time, the man had been occupying a small flat and the smell of death and decay had greeted Natasha and Clint before they had even finished picking the lock for the back door.

They found the body draped lazily on the couch in the tiny living room, leaning back with the arms spread in a casual position, lifeless eyes focused on a blank TV screen across the room. Cause of death could not be more obvious, in the form of a wide slit across the front his throat, a wound caused so fast and so suddenly that the agent had not been given time to fight back. Natasha didn't need to point out to her partner that the killer had stood behind his target to make the attack; she could see the way Clint's eyes darted around the room, taking in as much detail as she was. They made a good team, they worked well together and they knew each other's habits, which meant without a word he went to search the kitchen and she moved to the bedroom.

Natasha found nothing, a few false photographs that the agency had supplied to the spy, just enough to solidify his cover on an outward appearance. There were no results as she moved through the usual hiding places, under the mattress, in the back of the wardrobe, searching for any hidden panels or fake bottoms in the drawers. Only weapons that were meant to be found if anybody was searching the room, casual knives and an 'illegally' obtained gun, nothing that SHIELD would have issued.

"Nat." She moved back to the living room quickly as she heard Clint hiss from the kitchen, seeing him come to meet her with a piece of paper in his hand, his expression set in a way that told her he had found something. She didn't ask what it was; she just waited for him to explain his discovery.

"Ah," His eyes narrowed as they flicked across the page in his hand and he pursed his lips for a moment before he actually handed it to her. She saw immediately that it was a coded message, essentially meant for anyone from SHIELD to be able to read it, which didn't help considering if one of the moles in the agency had found the dead man then they would discover the message. Natasha quickly managed to translate the seemingly random series of numbers in her mind and looked up to Clint who had clearly already figured out the message. It was an address to a building not far from their location and they made another quick sweep of the flat before moving silently out the back door and setting off on a run.

Natasha wasn't surprised to find the message lead them to a seemingly abandoned warehouse building that showed as much decay as their fallen agent. There were no lights to show life within the complex, rubbish was strewn across the expansive car park that surrounded most of the front and sides, the generator for the facility appeared blackened and broken, as though it had burnt out years ago. But they were there for a reason, because that agent had deemed the address important enough to write down in numeric code. There had to be more there than what appeared at first.

The two spies were crouched at the very edge of the complex, hidden just inside a row of evergreens that lined one whole side of the fence, neither of them speaking as they tried to understand the allure of such a broken and forgotten place. The wind was gentle and light, bringing whispers through the air and helping rustle the trees, even tugging at the ends of Natasha's curls, reminding her that she needed a haircut, a possibly absurd thing to be thinking about while trying to focus on the mission. She had a sudden momentary flashback, recalling the delicious feeling of Tony tangling his fingers in her long curls, but she pushed it to the back of her mind before she could allow herself to entertain her little fantasy, there was more to think about and she couldn't risk the distraction.

"The fence moved, did you see that?" Clint's quiet voice pulled her from her budding thoughts and she was insanely grateful, albeit confused.

"It's an old fence, worn down. It was probably the wind." She muttered in response. But even as she came to that conclusion, she figured out how wrong she was as she observed the pulse running through the metal links. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion and she glanced across the entire line of the fence, seeing it really did appear to be old and broken, leaning oddly in some places, the barbed wire at the top was lazily unravelling. Yet the pulse was a clear sign of an electrical current running through in a circuit.

"Why would somebody electrify a fence and make it look like its old and broken?" Clint asked aloud, a question which was currently twisting itself though Natasha's mind as well. She moved forward silently, her agile limbs keeping her in a low crouch as she left the cover of the trees to observe the oddity. Clint stayed behind, but she heard the very quiet sound of an arrow being knocked to his bow. He had her back and knowing he was there to keep her safe, Natasha allowed herself to focus on the fence.

She could hear the hum as she approached, careful to keep out of electrocution range. From the hum she could figure out there was enough voltage running through the circuit to stop somebody's heart permanently. An illegal amount of power no matter what the fence was supposed to be guarding. She turned slowly, with the intention of moving back to her partner, but found herself in a whole mess of trouble.

Men appeared from nowhere, almost bleeding out of the shadows and rushing toward her with automatic weapons raised and aimed directly at her. They didn't speak as they approached her, never a good sign. No yelling, no demanding her to get right down on the ground, nothing of the sort. There were six of them and just as Natasha was about to reach for her gun, two more appeared from her left and she knew they would shoot her without hesitation if she pulled out a weapon.

Whoever these me were, they meant business. They were not looking to evict intruders from the property, there were no warning signs on the fence and no insignias on the guards clothing. Though she would never give up before exhausting every last option, she had already figured out there was very little chance of her walking out of this. Her hands came up in a surrendering position as she stood to full height, her eyes darting across the men, seeing nothing but their eyes since their faces and other features were hidden behind black balaclavas.

Finally one of them spoke in a harsh tone, sending a chill down her spine and halving the already low odds that she could free herself from her situation, even with a skilled archer hiding in the trees.

"The Widow." The only two words that were uttered by any of the men and spoken with an accent that even Natasha could not place, something of a surprise considering her talent with languages.

She showed no reaction to being recognized, simply blinking and making a show of remaining completely calm. The men glanced at each other and one of them nodded to the group, prompting them to step forward. Only then did she move, her body tensing in preparation for the pain that she knew was about to come. She threw her right arm forward, pressing the two buttons on the base of her palm as she closed her hand into a fist. A small pulse of light shot from the front of her knuckles, narrowly missing one of the men as he hurriedly stepped to the side. The ejected pulse was similar to a dart, a projectile that disappeared into the trees, seemingly having missed its target.

The pain finally arrived in the form of a heavy blow to the back of her head, forcing her to her knees instantly as stars exploded across her vision. She coughed and collapsed, her arms refusing to hold her up as a second blow came, though the pain was dulled somewhat from the original attack. Yet the effects washed over her twice as fast and her vision faded almost instantly, a ringing in her ears sounded for a moment before she blacked out, knowing her paralytic dart had hit Clint, ensuring he would remain hidden in the trees and not make a foolishly suicidal attempt to rescue her.

* * *

Clint's head was spinning as his eyes finally managed to open and he regretted forcing the action almost immediately. The canopy of trees above him was not very thick and the sunlight streaming down was achingly powerful. A vicious wave of nausea rolled over him and he turned onto his side, dry retching for a moment but thankfully bringing nothing up. It took him just a few seconds to recap what had happened and he glanced down to pull a tiny dart from the back of his wrist.

"Tasha you _fool_." He hissed quietly, knowing it had been shot from her glove and assuming it had been meant for him, to force him to remain hidden from the attackers. He checked his watch and calculated she had been taken about 5 hours ago, she had to be inside the building but he was logical enough to know he couldn't just run up to the fence and fight his way inside. They hadn't even been aware of the guards surrounding the area, who knows what else was there. He needed back up, he needed intel and more than anything he needed to believe that his partner was still alive. He remembered seeing her be knocked out before he had succumbed to the dart than had knocked himself out. They could have killed her yet they didn't and while he didn't understand why, he was at least grateful.

But he was betting she wasn't having much of a picnic wherever she was and the sooner he got her out the better. He had to take a moment to collect his energy before clawing his way into a standing position, using one of the nearby trees to balance against. The archer set of at a run after checking that he was leaving nothing behind, needing to make it back to the hotel as soon as he could with the intention of bringing in as much back up as Fury could authorise and then some. Hell, he was probably going to demand a level seven call out since one of the Avengers had been taken, it would only make sense to get the whole team together in an effort to get her back.

He was exhausted as he finally made it back to their room, almost collapsing against the door as he struggled to catch his breath, his heart hammering in his chest. The toxin Natasha had shot him with was _not_ meant for friends and he felt a sudden wave of pity for anyone she had ever slammed the darts into. He groaned as he fumbled with the lock and staggered through the door after finally managing to open it, his body shaking as he awkwardly shut it behind him with a badly aimed kick.

His head shot up as he realized he was not alone in the room, his aching muscles and rolling waves of nausea having prevented his natural instincts to kick in at full speed and he cursed himself, knowing he should have made sure he wasn't walking into a trap before he stumbled in like a zombie.

Thankfully, he had not walked into a fatal trap with a room full of enemies, there was only one other occupant and despite the nature of their interactions recently, Clint was suddenly so thankful to see the man that he didn't bother asking how he had managed to track the two spies down.

"Where is she?" Tony demanded, stepping forward from the centre of the room, already having figured out that Natasha had not returned with Clint and that the archer's state was certainly not a good sign.

"Tell me you brought the suit." Clint gasped, clutching his chest, his heart still slamming against his ribcage. Tony frowned, his brown eyes showing a surprising fire as he pointed across the room where the classical red and gold war suit was compacted into a square of metal; clearly Tony understood Clint was not meaning the dark grey suit he was currently wearing.

"Good," Clint nodded, moving to lean against the wall as he forced his breathing to steady itself. "I need your help to get her back."


	24. A Cruel Twist Of Irony

**Thank you so much for the reviews like always, I'm sorry about the lack of updates –usual reasons regarding life and the real world getting in the way etc. But seriously the more reviews I get the more I love doing this, I just want to know there are people out there actually enjoying what I love to create.**

* * *

Tony Stark was a man known to be irrational and impulsive at the best of times, those close to him were well aware of his unpredictable nature and his constant personality trait of saying or doing whatever came to mind without extensively researching into the repercussions. So he allowed himself a small moment of inner pride as he listened to Clint's explanation of the events at the 'abandoned' warehouse and managed to restrain himself from blowing up at the archer. His first reaction was something close to instinctual anger, a feeling he immediately attributed to his view of Natasha and his natural worry for her safety. Clint made it very clear that the guards had not been part time mall cops, the men had seemed well trained and organized, they had even recognized Natasha, which was definitely not a good sign, even Tony could figure that out with his limited knowledge of the way the spy world worked.

Clint seemed just as interested in how Tony had tracked them down as Tony was in figuring out how this top agent had let his partner be taken in by some high level enemies, which led to a conversation holding the metaphorical equivalent of two angry goats with large horns smashing their heads together. It didn't help that the two of them truly weren't holding the other in high regard, while their impromptu meeting was somewhat amicable at the beginning it took a turn for the worst as soon as Tony had discovered just how much danger Natasha was in. He didn't bother to hide the fact that he blamed Clint for letting Natasha get taken and to be fair Clint seemed to agree with him at least in part.

The two men were exceptionally different in many ways but they had one very important thing in common – their desperate need to locate a certain red headed Russian and ensure her safety. That need was enough to take priority over two sarcastic clashing personalities and forced them to work together, though it was still semi reluctant and neither of them bothered to offer to shake hands.

"So what _do_ you know about this warehouse?" Tony asked with just enough edge in his tone to insinuate he was mocking Clint for knowing so little. The billionaire was well aware of Clint's knuckles flexing slightly, though his face remained impassive and Tony counted that as a victory, not a warning. He had a knack for getting on peoples nerves no matter how dire the situation and it had more or less evolved into something he couldn't actually turn off. It was hard for Tony to simply stand in the middle of the foreign hotel room and keep calm enough to gather information, all the while his mind was screaming for him to get out there and find Natasha. If anything happened to her… well Tony didn't even want to consider the idea of her being in pain, though he would be a fool to think the masked men were giving her a lovely manicure.

His arms were folded tightly as he stared at Clint, noting how the man's condition seemed to be improving rapidly since he arrived back at the room, his hungover-like state quickly leaving him. Tony's constant flow of sass and thinly veiled contempt seemed to be working marvellously to aid him.

"Not much." Clint admitted pointlessly after taking his time to answer, his eyes darting around the room as though on a pre-set circuit, Tony assumed it was probably some kind of natural spy instinct. "We found the address at an agent's flat, with no information about why it was important enough to write down in code-"

"Spies and codes. Ever think of taking a break from the constant monotony of treachery and deception?" Tony cut in with heavily sarcastic flare, causing a visible flash of annoyance in Clint's eyes.

"We can't all just randomly take time off and fly to exotic islands via first class." Clint retorted without much hesitation, his tone showing his building anger though he seemed to be keeping it well restrained.

"I fly via _private_ jet, actually. More space, better food." It may not have been helping their situation in the slightest, but banter was a necessary part of Tony's speech and it took a lot to get him to focus. Clint was not amused and Tony was seriously considering making a quick joke about likening Clint's current mood to that specific point in Bruce's personality where he ceased to be the lovable scientist and changed into an unstoppable force. Yet Natasha flashed through Tony's mind before he could speak and he was reminded of how important it was to get her back.

Clint took the abrupt and uncharacteristic hesitation as a chance to speak, stepping forward about half an inch and adorning an expression that was so serious Tony wondered if it actually caused him pain. "How did you find us?" He demanded suddenly, his jaw setting hard as though his life was depending on the answer to the question.

"Fury tried _very_ hard to stop me." Tony answered and there was no way to hide the hint of a smirk at the side of his lips. Clint raised an eyebrow close to a fraction of an inch but his deadly expression did not change, a sign of sorts for Tony to explain further. "I don't like it when Fury beats me. So I couldn't let him win." It had been simpler than he thought, for all the secrecy and preparation within the organization, SHIELD didn't have quite the range of resources Tony did when it came to his fame and economical status. He'd cracked into every database he could find and managed to launch a facial recognition programme through a foreign military that had limited access to a satellite with enough power to run the software. But, it had taken some handshakes with a few officials standing in very high circles to gain the information he needed. There was a lot of loyalty to the world still, but it was no longer the currency. Currency was the new currency of the realm. And if that held status, then Tony was a King.

Clint didn't seem to like his general dodge of answering the question without specific details but Tony didn't care. He knew damn well the little hawk was going to run back to Fury the moment he could and tattle on the billionaire who was _not_ about to give up his secrets to a spy. Tony watched the other man struggle between pressing further into the topic or focusing on the task at hand, apparently choosing Natasha as a priority after just a few seconds of internal thought, a choice Tony whole heartedly agreed with.

"We need to find out more about the warehouse." Clint spoke up, as though the idea had not already occurred to Tony, who barely managed to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He dug his hand into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out his phone, swiping his thump across the transparent screen to connect the device to Stark Industries, immediately giving himself access to anything SHIELD hadn't locked him out of.

"Give me the address and I can get you whatever information you need Hawkboy." Tony drawled as he lazily flicked his fingers across the waking screen, typing in the address that Clint relayed aloud.

* * *

Darkness was the first thing that greeted Natasha when she managed to claw her way up from the depths of her subconscious, a crushing, imploding darkness that gave the general impression of enveloping her completely, mind body and soul. The pain centred in the back of her skull took a few seconds to manifest and make itself known, but once she noticed the throbbing ache she couldn't understand why there had been even a brief second where she couldn't feel it. Memory returned slowly, coming in flashes at first to remind her of the events leading to her capture and her reaction to being surrounded. She spared a thought to hope Clint had remained undetected in the trees, her guilt would be unbelievable if they had found her partner and she'd managed to knock him out to leave him as an unconscious sitting duck.

As she woke up a little more, she rolled through a check of her body, shifting ever so slightly in stages to determine the state of her injuries and just how concerned she should be for her own wellbeing. It quickly became apparent that the blow to the back of her head was the only real injury but she didn't think the damage caused would be anything long lasting. Her shoulders ached and her wrists held a familiar pain, both were caused by how tightly her arms were bound behind her back and while her ankles were tied to one leg of the hard metal chair she was seated in, the tops of her thick boots were enough to avoid cutting into the circulation, something that couldn't be said for her wrists.

There was no sound other than her own steady breathing and the rhythmic beating of her heart, both calming tempos would no doubt give an appearance of tranquillity or peace, coupled with a facial expression that she was fighting to keep blank and serene. If she could be seen even while she could not see, then she wanted her viewers to believe she was not succumbing to the fear that such brutal darkness was sure to inflict on others. If her captor's goal was bring about a frightened reaction from her, then there would be no success for them. If it was a game of waiting, they would lose. Basically Natasha would not crack, whatever they desired, whatever their game, she would make sure she was the victor.

Minutes passed, hours trickled by, maybe two or three. Normally she was excellent at tracking the passage of time but with her own pulse as a counter for time, it was slightly more difficult than it usually would be. She had no frame of reference to judge by, she didn't even know how long she had been unconscious for. It could have been a few minutes or a few hours, there was no way to tell and she was hardly going to call out through the darkness and ask her captors what time it was.

Her limbs were beginning to ache from being kept in the same position for so long but it was nothing she couldn't handle, no matter what situation she found herself, no matter what pain she had to suffer through she was always aware of a worse time hanging in the back of her mind. This uncomfortable waiting game was nothing compared to the torture she had survived through her life, it would take more to break her.

Ashamedly, she was almost beginning to get bored, nothing was happening, no events to mark the passage of time and no interaction from the people who had taken her. Why were they just leaving her here? Was she even being watched? She had assumed so but what were the odds that she had just been abandoned in a location far from where she had been initially taken from- no, that was ridiculous. She decided against the idea internally, she had been tied down securely enough to ensure no movement, and those who captured her had known who she was. The price on her head in the underworld was unbelievably high, any assassin hoping to make a name for himself would sell their soul to take a shot at her. Killing the Black Widow would ensure a boost in status beyond realistic proportions.

So with no real option but to assume she was being watched, she waited and listened, hearing nothing but the signs of life from her own body for an unknown period of time.

The shocking event began as a strange tickle at first, something too light to be an itch but apparent enough to remind her that she had not lost feeling in her hands even though her wrists were aching badly due to the tight bonds around them. Though she could not see at all, the first thing that came to mind was that she had a bug of some sort crawling across her hand. A light movement, but enough to cause a flare of curiosity within her, perhaps for no other reason than it being the only change in her wait for hours.

"And I thought the little widow would never get to you." A light hearted and quiet voice filled the room, spoken through some sort of transmitter from a microphone, projected through a speaker somewhere up high, clearly the speaker was not in the room. It felt oddly comforting to hear another person's voice again, even if it was not from a friend and the words themselves were confusing. The speaker was male, late thirties judging from her initial guess of age which she knew wouldn't be too far from the actual truth. It took her more than a short few seconds to make out the meaning behind his words, her mind struggling to decipher them as though they had been in another language completely.

She didn't move in the slightest or show any other reaction that even signalled that she heard him, but it was obvious she did, there was no way not to hear the voice that had echoed around the room in such a way that told her she was not seating in a large space.

She waited patiently for more words to be spoken in ways of another riddle, but she was given a treat instead. The darkness began to fade slowly, incredibly slowly in a way that filled her with more confusion. After so long in the dark, if a high contrast beam was suddenly flooded into her open eyes, it could cause enough sudden damage to completely fry her retinas, blinding her indefinitely. Yet the light that greeted her began as very dim and slowly brightened, though it did still cause some heavy irritation to her eyes and caused her to blink rapidly in subconscious defence against the change.

It hurt to look around instead of closing her eyes and letting herself adjust, but she couldn't resist the opportunity to gather some information about where she was behind held. The room was roughly as small as she imagined, though while she had pictured something close to a cold cut, steel lined interview room, it was more like an unused office, however it lacked anything business related and other than the chair she was sitting on there was no furniture in the room. She turned her head ever so slightly with the intention of gaining a more dimensional view of the room instead of judging it by the wall she was currently facing, but something stopped her. She didn't even realize what it was at first, it was more of an instinct that haltered any dramatic movements, but her aching eyes were quickly pulled down to the back of her hand, where the light feathery brush had reasserted itself across her skin and it took less than a second for the blood to drain from her face and a silent chill to run all the way from her neck to the base of her spine.

She had been right in her first thought about a bug, though the class itself needed to be more specific for any realistic application. 'Spider' was a more correct term than 'bug' and 'fuck' just became an accurate word to describe the mixed feeling of panic and dread that rolled through her in a sudden wave. Any idea of moving in a form other than blinking was quickly thrown out the window, her breathing became instantly shallow while still deep enough to draw in sufficient oxygen, her body stilling as much as it possibly could.

Black Widow spiders were impossibly deadly, carrying enough venom to bring along beautiful poetry in a fatal way. The words spoken from the mystery man suddenly made a lot more sense, though it still seemed odd to believe she had been waiting in the room for hours, being watched until a spider finally made its way over to her. How long had it been in the room? As long as she had been perhaps? Logically she had already calculated she was going to die and all it might take was an involuntary twitch, a spasm from a strained muscle. One bite, one sudden prick from tiny fangs and her entire life became forfeit with only seconds left to roll through any last regrets. A black widow did not need an overly dramatic sign of aggression to launch an attack and Natasha suddenly understood the point of flooding her with light at a slow pace.

She had been kept in darkness until the spider reached her so she could not move away and kill the creature before her eyes were treated to sight of it situated on her bare skin. Her captor wanted her to feel the fear, the panic of such a situation and the harder Natasha tried to keep such fear at bay, the more powerful it became.


	25. The Shining Knight Enters

**I know, I know, I suck for taking so long to update, you are right. I've been focusing on a few other requests and I should have put this first on priority, I'm sorry. But I can update more often now if that's what you want! Thank you so much for the reviews, I love the compliments as well as the criticism and again I'm open for requests, thanks for reading!**

* * *

If Tony was honest with himself –though he hardly ever was—he knew he had never really liked Clint from the start. Sure, the hawk gave him a few good laughs, they were evenly matched in the way of sarcasm, but that was it. Apart from the snarky personalities, they had very little in common. Tony was a billionaire, he ran in the high circles of social life and Clint was the little spy who dwelled in the shadows. They had their own separate lives, even though they were both part of a team that had quite effectively ended an alien invasion and saved the entire world.

Now, sometime later, they found themselves on a mission that involved saving a certain red head that they both apparently had a thing for. Except Tony had been benched on the side-lines in the most infuriatingly logical way. Clint had made some good points when he insisted that it was easier for him to sneak into the building, than it was for Tony to fly in guns blazing and blow up the whole place. If Natasha was still alive, then they needed to get her out safe. Tony wouldn't even consider the concept that she had been killed; he couldn't let himself consider the negative side for once.

He _needed_ to believe she was safe.

Clint was right about needing to use stealth on this mission, but Tony hated that he had to stay behind until Clint had gotten in to locate Natasha. They both cared about her, they both wanted her safe and it was only the thought of her safety that could convince Tony to wait for Clint to get in.

He wasn't happy about it in the slightest. He found himself three blocks away from the supposedly abandoned warehouse, standing in a small alleyway in the Iron Man suit, helmet on, ready to go. He had been watching Clint's progress via a small camera he had given the archer, who had placed it on his collar. But just when Clint had passed the boundary line into the establishment after getting over the fence in a strangely acrobatic way, the visual feed had cut out.

Clint had insisted that it was some kind of electrical interference, which was basically what Tony's readings had been able to tell him, but still, it was a little inconvenient, meaning Tony had no idea what Clint was up to other than audio relays. And Tony didn't trust Clint in the slightest. He was a spy, certainly not meant to be trusted; it was in the job description.

The alley was filthy and dank and quite frankly it was embarrassing to be standing in it. Even though it was late evening and not a single person had come across him, it was still embarrassing. If the world didn't already know the identity behind Iron Man, then Tony would have been glad for the mask as it would have provided anonymity. He was standing near one of the walls, speaking with Clint about what the spy was finding in the building, how many guards he was taking out. Anything that was relevant to the mission. Though Tony wanted to complain about the state of his location, he had a feeling Clint had chosen it specifically because of the undesirability of it. Fucking spies.

The billionaire kicked out with a heavy leg, sending a discarded beer can skittering across the ground. He watched it hit the wall and bounce off, almost reaching the end. Sometimes he forgot the power of the suit, though he was always quickly reminded. Yet for all its strength and power, he was standing as back up, waiting for a spy to give him orders. He shuddered at the thought of it.

He waited patiently for those orders, snapping at Barton every other second, desperately waiting to be useful. As each second passed, he was hit with visions of Clint running in and rescuing their missing agent, turning himself into the heroic knight of the fairy tale. Which was bullshit really; Tony was the one with the literal suit of shining armour. But Natasha was hardly the princess, although sure, she could be directly linked to the Russian royal monarchs, but she was certainly not the damsel in distress. Tony had read a little of her past, when he had hacked into SHIELD systems and of what he had read, he was definitely impressed. And he definitely admired her for managing to get out of bed every morning without slamming a litre of scotch down her throat.

"_Okay Stark, I have a visual."_ Clint's voice in his ear snapped his mind away from any other thoughts, his whole body straightening from where he had been leaning against the chipped brick wall.

"Is she okay? Is she alive!" Tony's voice was demanding, laced with a panic that he didn't even bother to hide.

"_Yes, alive. She seems like she has no major injuries but I can't tell for sure, I'm only looking at her through a computer monitor."_

"There's a camera on her? Patch it through the feed with the one I gave you." Tony insisted, walking forward a few steps and turning around, pacing to the exact same position he had just been in, merely needing to move.

"_You mean the one that shorted out? Smooth move genius. Whoa…. oh Jesus…."_ Clint's voice changed from condescending to worried in an instant, sparking a flash of anger and concern through Tony at the same time.

"What? What is it? Dammit Barton tell me what is happening!" Tony had to struggle to keep his voice below a shouting level, infuriated at the man who was supposed to be relaying information.

"_It's…. not good." _Clint replied and Tony ground his teeth together before choosing to respond.

"That is not very helpful to me. I need details, if you wouldn't mind taking your head out of your ass for one god damn second-"

"_Stark, you better get in here." _Clint's voice was quiet and calm in a way that miraculously shut Tony up in a heartbeat. "_I need you to create one hell of a distraction around the west side of the building. Hurry_."

Tony didn't even hesitate. He didn't argue, or complain, or ask for a single further detail on Natasha's state. If creating a distraction was going to help her, then he would do it. He ignited the thrusters and flew up directly vertical until the warehouse was in sight.

"JARVIS, launch a small missile at the west side of the building." Tony ordered and held up his wrist, choosing for the computer to make the target instead of making the shot himself. It would be more accurate and Clint had decided for the distraction to be on the west side, meaning Natasha was located near the east. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her during a botched rescue attempt.

* * *

Clint was hunched over a series of monitors that showed a range of different locations inside the building, but the one he focused on mainly was the one showing Natasha. Three guards were lying unconscious on the floor and there was a fourth slumped against the far wall, a knife protruding from his throat. The only reason the other three were alive was because the stun grenade had knocked them out rather efficiently. He would kill them before he left but that could wait until he had a plan to get Natasha out.

He could see her through the screen, tied to a chair and seeming as though she was rather impassive to the whole situation. But he knew he better than that. Anyone else would see a calm woman, but he could see the fear creeping into her expression, even though the low quality of the visual device. Something was increasing her fear, which was in itself almost impossible. Natasha was not afraid of anything; she was the strongest woman he knew, mentally and physically.

It took him awhile to see it, the spider sitting on her hand. It was the fact that her eyes kept flicking down that alerted him to its presence. He waited, needing to use Tony's distraction as timing before he launched down the hallway and cleared out as many guards as possible.

But this little spider changed a few things. As he watched the screen intently, he saw her suddenly stiffen. She wasn't moving anyway, but he could still see her entire body go stiff in a heartbeat and her expression changed a little, showing just a tad more of her fear.

They were falling from the roof, tiny to his eyes through a camera, but no doubt quite a bit larger in person. It was just a couple at first, two or three spiders fell from above, one landing on her shoulder. Then a slight pause before two dozen or so fell in a heap. Most of them landed around her, close to her form but still falling on the floor. However enough landed on her actual body that Clint knew if she moved a single muscle, if she even breathed too loudly, then she was dead a thousand times over. Clint wasn't an idiot, he could figure out what they were. The men had known she was the widow and now spiders were falling on her and she looked _terrified._ Not as terrified as anybody without the beautiful control that she had on her emotions, but Clint could still see her fear and he could easily figure out that she was being showered with Black Widows, such an ironic way to kill an assassin who used that title.

This _definitely_ changed a few things.

Clint was about to instruct Tony to hold off on the distraction when half a dozen of the screens he was watching suddenly turned to static and he picked up on the unmistakable sound of a rather large explosion. He sighed inwardly but turned away from the monitors, having to tear his eyes from Natasha's panicking form. She was a clever girl and she knew not to make a single move. She was already trying to stay as still as she possibly could. She knew how to keep herself alive.

"Stark, listen to me very carefully. We need to clear this entire building. If we barge into where she is being held, she will die in seconds." He spoke slowly, as though Tony was new to the English language, but it was more so that he understood exactly what Clint was telling him. The billionaire still replied with a range of colourful swearing that would have made Clint grin, just knowing he could elicit such a response from the normally calm and emotionally controlled billionaire. But the situation did not call for humour and amusement.

Clint carefully slit the throat of each of the men in the room; his mercy was non-existent as long as his partner was in danger. He would get her out, he had to. She couldn't die this way, it was too cruel, and it was too poetic. She was a fan of irony normally, but she was clearly hating this situation.

As he rushed out into the corridor, he saw far more guards out there than he had when he ran in. No doubt they were all responding to the sudden attack on the west side of the building and Clint kept his bow on his back momentarily, drawing a second knife from the sheath on his hip. Growing up in the circus had given him agility that was second only to Natasha. While at long range he was unstoppable with a bow, while at close range, he whirled knives with a skill that allowed him to cut through his targets with deadly ease.

There was one thought on his mind and one thought only; he had to get to Natasha.

* * *

Natasha's breathing was so painfully slow and even that it may have looked as though she wasn't breathing at all. She counted eleven Black Widows sitting calmly over her body and each time they moved even the slightest amount, she had to keep a panicked yell from escaping her throat. She hadn't heard from her captor in quite some time, she had already figured out the small room was completely soundproof, giving her the illusion that she was completely alone in the world. Apart from her arachnid creatures of course.

Every three seconds she was struck with the urge to violently try and shake them away from her, but there risk was too high. If any of the spiders felt threatened in any way, then they would bite and that would be it for her. The room was cold, chillingly cold and while that didn't bother her in slightest, she was producing a nice little level of body heat that the spiders in the area would be drawn towards.

It was brilliant really, a slow and terrifying death that could come at any moment and she could do nothing about it. She focused on breathing in and out, in and out. It was the only thing she could do. Every involuntary twitch from her was a sudden declaration of war to a spider and she dreaded the moment when she would twitch in the wrong place, encouraging one of the spiders to sink their fangs in.

Her fear of the creatures was so complete that she didn't even notice at first when a voice broke through the absolute silence of her little room of Hell.

"Tash? Hey, Tash can you hear me?" The voice was quiet in volume and spoken as a whisper, she recognized it instantly and she had never been so glad to hear her partner's voice in her entire life. Her eyes flicked up, if he was watching her then he would have to assume that was her signal, she couldn't exactly call out to him or wave a cheery hello.

"Good, okay, here's the deal. I found access to the vent in the front of the room, I'm going to pump in some gas that should send your little friends to the other side of the room. Or kill them. Maybe. It'll be okay, just hold on Nat." His voice was uncertain, as if the plan was not something deemed to go one hundred percent right. Which honestly wasn't all that reassuring, but as long as there was a slim chance he could get her out of this, then she would take it.

She couldn't respond of course and she knew he didn't expect her to, so she continued to remain completely still, despite the agony that was flooding her body. Even if he could get her out and get her on her feet, walking was going to be hard, her limbs were like jelly and while the ankle restraints hadn't been painful initially, they sure as hell were now.

She didn't know where her captor was; maybe Clint had managed to take him out, maybe he had escaped. Either way she didn't care. She wanted out. Although she _did _want to kill that bastard herself. And she damn well knew she was going to feed him spiders until he rotted from the inside out. Okay maybe she did care a little; she wanted him alive when she inflicted her revenge.

After so long struck with her fear and dealing with her pain, Natasha's senses were a little dulled. Yet she could still easily pick up the scent of the gas at it filtered into the air around her, unable to stop herself breathing it in. If she tried to hold her breath, her body would spasm and the spiders would bite. Still she breathed slowly, yet she could not even try to take in a minimal amount of the gas and she could tell by instinct that it was designed to put people to sleep. She had of course been through extensive training to ward herself against effects of many things, including knock out gas, but she would never be able to immunise herself completely and while she had a high tolerance to most things, they would eventually take effect.

She fought hard against the increasing urge to close her eyes, but she was getting so sleepy. The spiders were moving and she was almost too drowsy to worry about them, but she kept her gradually closing eyes on them as they started to creep along her body. Two of them fell off almost simultaneously, another dropped a few seconds later, the other, apparently stronger ones making their way down her legs. Still she didn't move, partly because her arms and legs suddenly felt like they wouldn't respond to her instructions, even her head lolled to the side.

She was barely awake when the door to the room was kicked open so hard that it slammed against the adjoining wall and snapped off its hinges. Natasha's eyes were almost closed at this point, no matter how hard she fought to stay awake, but she was alert enough to see a tall figure step through the open doorway, a metal man with red and gold splashed across his form.

"Tony…." Natasha muttered instinctually, her tightly bound hands reaching towards him, though only her fingers responded to her will, stretching out slightly, before the world spun with a vicious velocity and her vision turned black.


	26. A Dance With Death

Natasha's mind was aware of the moment she broke through into a conscious state, growing more and more alert with each passing second. She could feel a crushing weariness over her entire body, as though her limbs were thick and heavy, weighed down and unable to obey her instruction. Darkness flooded her vision, warning her that either her eyes were closed –the more likely scenario—or perhaps that she was now blind. She made a quick decision to focus on the more optimistic option and began to try and open her eyes.

Her initial attempts were unsuccessful, her eyelids were too heavy and her energy levels were too low to aid her in such a pitifully menial act. To be hampered in her tried to simple open her eyes was a little concerning, but it wasn't like she hadn't been through this kind of thing before, perseverance was the key. She was a woman who refused to admit defeat; she was too stubborn to accept when things were not going her way. It was embarrassing how long it took her to open her eyes even a little, but she did get there eventually.

There was nothing to see at first, just a slit of pale light. For just a moment she was hit with a flash of fear that perhaps her sight had been affected after all, but she needed to remain optimistic to keep herself calm. She waited a few seconds and watched as details began to slowly come into focus. Nothing substantial at first, merely patches of mismatching light morphing into blurry shapes and colors slowly contrasting her vision.

A slight noise reached her ears, only then did she realize everything had been so silent for ear until that exact moment. As though her hearing had been slipped on with a switch. It was a steady noise, a quiet beeping sound. Instinct and experience told her that she was listening to the monitored sound of heart heartbeat, relayed though electronic machines. That of course fuelled a sudden desire to figure out exactly where she was, clearly a medical ward of some description, but _where_?

She couldn't even count the times she had woken up in sterile rooms, exhausted, physically and mentally, tied to some bed after gruesome experiments had been performed on her. But she had left that life behind, she knew that much, unless her past had managed to get a hold of her again.

As her vision started to define what she was seeing, a plain type of tile roofing became clearer, telling her that she was laying on her back, a suspicion already but it was good to confirm something. She absolutely hated feeling so useless, so worn and exhausted, while being able to do nothing about it.

Her other senses seemed so dull as she tried to make sense of the roof tiles, blinking wearily. Her body still felt numb and she couldn't smell anything, she could hear that rhythmic beating but it sounded far off and distorted, even though she knew it was most likely coming from directly beside her.

It has taken an extreme amount of effort to even open her eyes, but she made an attempt to try and move another part of her body. Anything that would respond to her will. At first there was nothing, no movement and it drained her to even try. But she continued and was determined to persevere, eventually wiggling a few toes and then her fingers. Nothing major, just enough to reassure herself that she was not paralyzed from head to toe.

It was an instant relief to know she wasn't permanently paralysed, even the tiny movements of her fingers and toes had calmed her significantly and the calmer she was, the more logical she could be and that was how she had managed to survive so long, keeping herself calm and strategic.

She tried to move again, understanding now that the numbness of her body was linked to her exhaustion. She focused on her right hand, managing to move all her fingers and once, squeezing her hand. To her surprise, she found something warm was pressed against her hand, something soft and gently, yet somehow still rough and firm at the same time.

Her mind had sharpened considerably by this stage and it was like everything clicked into place in a single instant. She knew she was in the medical lab by the tower, she didn't recognize the pattern of the roof tiles until that point. She knew it was another hand with a firm grip on hers and pure instinct told her that the hand belonged to Tony. That thought was comforting, if she was correct in her deduction and she hoped she was.

The previous events were coming back to her in a rush and she remembered the room with the spiders, Clint's voice, the gas and then Tony. He had kicked open the door to her cell and stepped in to rescue her. He had come for her.

She was tired, so painfully tired and she knew that even while she had been making great progress on rediscovering parts of her body and assuring herself she would not be bound to a bed for the rest of her life, she knew it wouldn't take long before she succumbed to the darkness creeping into the edge of her vision. Before she gave in to that abyss, she had to figure out if it was actually Tony who was holding her hand. There was no way in hell that she had enough energy to sit right up and look, but she was certain she would be able to turn her head enough to see.

She let out a breath and looked to the side slowly, annoyed that her vision was blurring again so she could only see a figure seated beside her bed, not able to define any detail. But she knew it was Tony, something about the way he hunched in his chair, clearly asleep, told her he lacked any kind of military experience. Meaning he was neither Clint, nor the Captain and why would Bruce or Thor be holding her hand for comfort and reassurance? It had to be Tony.

If she had the energy, she would have thanked him even though he wouldn't have heard her in his apparent slumber. She was too tired to read into the depth behind him being there, but she was very aware it was the comfort of his presence that allowed her to finally embrace the darkness that was pulling her down again, falling back into a sleep so deep she may as well have been unconscious.

* * *

"Tony wake up, time for some food and maybe a shower."

Bruce opted for a gentle shake of Tony's shoulder, not wanting to yank the billionaire away from the slumber that he needed rather desperately. There was no response, not even a distracted snore and a slight frown crossed the doctor's lips, not able to hide the concern that had started building for the billionaire. Tony was draped over the uncomfortable looking chair that he had dragged over to Natasha's bed the moment she had been moved into the towers medical ward.

Bruce couldn't get over how strange it was to see Tony acting that way, so… protective. Bruce had been there when Tony had blurted out his true feelings for their resident assassin and Bruce knew very well that Tony was certainly not to type to throw 'I love you' around to every girl he slept with. But it was still somewhat confusing to bear witness to the way he had been acting ever since Natasha had been brought in.

It wasn't like a lovesick puppy scenario; it was so much more for that, as though he was watching over her, reassuring her by his presence alone.

It had been a fierce struggle, Clint and Tony had managed to get Natasha extracted surprisingly quickly, showing just how much status she actually held within the organization that had claimed her as one of their top agents. It wasn't until she was being carried onto the jet that it became apparent she had been bitten, poisoned by the very creature whom he title was taken from. Bruce wasn't aware of the full situation and he knew he would never be told, the details would be confidential and that was fine with him, but he knew that Natasha must have been through hell.

Her heart had stopped while in transit on the jet, though the medics on board had managed to restart it, delivering a range of different injections designed to prevent the effects of the deadly venom coursing through her veins. There had been no way to effectively cure her until she landed, where the team on board had radioed ahead to get some anti-venom waiting. To be honest, Bruce was a little suspicious about how fast SHIELD had managed to get their hands on a sample, but their speedy response may have saved her life.

Without that anti-venom, there was no question about whether she would have survived her ordeal and if SHIELD had to source a supply from outside the organization, it would have been too late for her; there would have been no hope.

Natasha's intimate dance with Death had scared Tony, Bruce hadn't really known him long, but he was incredibly aware of just how worried he was about Natasha.

When the jet landed at the tower, Tony had been insistent that no one but Bruce treat her, no matter how much he tried to emphasise that he just was not that kind of doctor. But Natasha had been betrayed at SHIELD so recently and neither Bruce nor Tony trusted the organization, so it made sense to keep her away from anybody suspicious while she was in such a vulnerable and weakened state. Bruce knew that if she had woken up while a complete stranger had been treating her, then he would have lost a couple of his medical staff.

The doctor was willing to bet that Natasha was incredibly dangerous no matter how close to death she was.

It was almost pure luck that she was alive, the Black Widow was her title and she was aptly names, being so small and deadly. The bite _should_ have killed her; it was nothing short of a miracle that she would live. But the journey had been terrible, Bruce had to induce a coma the moment she got into his lab, otherwise her body would fight too hard to help destroy the venom in her veins and her own exhaustion would take her. Her entire body needed to relax completely and anybody who knew Natasha was very aware that she lacked the ability to relax.

It had taken almost a full day to stabilize her heart, each beat send the venom through her heart and threatened to shut it down. At around three in the morning the first night, Bruce was thankfully able to remove the respirator from her through to allow her to breathe on her own, though even then, her intakes were shallow and uneven, worryingly so.

Bruce would freely admit that it felt so _wrong_ to see her like that, so deathly pale, unmoving, barely breathing. Wires measuring her heartbeat, multiple needles sticking into her veins. She seemed so vulnerable, a shadow of the vibrant fighter that the team knew, yet would never fully know_._ This was Natasha, the spy, the legendary assassin who could match even the great Tony Stark in the battle of sarcastic wit and was apparently immune to his powerful charm. It wasn't right to be viewing her when she was at anything other than full health.

The doctor's gaze moved away from his patient and locked onto her visitor, a man who had barely left her side since she was admitted. Tony was not pining over her like a clingy insufferable stalker, but it was clear he was concerned about her wellbeing and he no doubt wanted to be there when Natasha woke up.

_"I never got to tell her… what if she dies and I never get to tell her…?" _Tony's words from earlier rolled around his mind and Bruce knew that if that happened, it would strike a blow into Tony's heart so deep that no amount of alcohol would ever be able to fill the void. A man who rarely ever opened his heart, did not deserve to have it crushed so harshly.

He had barely left her side, only really to eat and wash, though he hadn't shaved in the three days since Bruce had induced her coma, Tony's clean cut facial hair was spanning out into an unshaven shadow. He was losing his classic and sophisticated look, taking on a far more rugged and genuine appearance. From what Bruce could tell, his worry over Natasha was humanizing him.

It was clear that Tony was having nightmares, though it wasn't surprising, considering his past and the pressure on a man like him to live up to his father. His father had literally helped to create the leader of their own team and that left some big shoes to fill, but Tony filled them well. They all had nightmares; they were all broken creatures in one way or another.

Bruce looked to where Tony was clutching Natasha's hand and it almost looked like she was holding him in return, but he couldn't be sure.

"Tony come on." He gave the billionaire another light shake, making another attempt to wake him, though he was loathed to take away what little rest Tony was actually getting, the man needed to eat.

"Huh- wha- uh…. Natasha?" Tony's initial try for words appeared to fail miserably, seeming confused and sleep filled. But the slumbering assassins name was spoken with clarity as though he suddenly remembered where he was. He leaned forward to focus on Natasha, either not even noticing Bruce, or just neglecting to acknowledge him as he resumed the protective watch over his ward for a few moments.

"How's she doing Doc?" Tony asked quietly, apparently knowing Bruce was there. Bruce wouldn't have minded even if he wasn't noticed, he blended into the back of the group quite often and he preferred it that way. It was only Tony that ever seemed to notice him there.

"Better." Came Bruce's one worded reply and he was glad to say he meant it. Natasha's health had increased greatly, she was doing better by the hour. "Are you going to eat anything?" Bruce treaded lightly, when it had been uncertain whether Natasha was even going to make it, Tony had nearly exploded at Bruce when he suggested he leave her side so he could get a good night of rest.

They had something special, or at least Tony had something special for Natasha. This wasn't just a fling, not on Tony's end and for the first time, Bruce was beginning to worry that it was the notorious womanizer that would suffer the heartbreak.

* * *

Tony had been dreaming of falling, falling through space, not the sky. The darkness had been crushing him, the alien ship destroyed, the portal closing and separating him from everything he had ever known. In his nightmares, either he didn't make it back to Earth at all, or he just kept falling until he hit the ground. He had nearly died in deep space, saving a world that claimed it didn't need saving.

To wake up and see Natasha lying on the bed like that, pale and unmoving, was terrifying. He had finally admitted his feelings to himself and he knew he loved her, he couldn't lose her now. He would never forgive himself for not leaving to find her sooner, or for not telling her before she had left. He would always wonder what he could have done to save her, if there was anything he could have done differently.

* * *

**Am I making this story too long? Clearly I have a problem with ending stories, I just want to keep writing it but it seems like it's too long? And also I apologize for any mistakes in either spelling or grammar, I was only able to proof read a couple of times before I ran out of time and had to put it up real quick.**


	27. I'm Here

**Possible warning for spoilers of Iron Man 3, I'm not sure if basic information and hinting counts, so I'm making sure. No way in hell would this chapter give away the plot line at all, but it does brush onto it a little, so warning just in case. It is probably more some of those things that you would only notice if you had seen the movie but I don't want to bother anybody, I depend on you all too much.**

* * *

Since Tony had handed over CEO duties of Stark Industries to his long-time assistant Pepper, things had been running incredibly smoothly. Not that Tony was surprised in the slightest, Pepper had always been there, helping him and assisting him, getting all the hard stuff done if he didn't feel like it –which happened often. She had been running the company already, the changeover was just about naming her CEO officially, and of course giving her a substantial pay rise. Even though Tony was not still completely in charge of the company, he was still kept in the loop. It was a good boost to share prices if the public believed that the Iron Man himself was still heavily involved in the running of the company. It was all still Tony's technology, but Pepper was executing all of the tasks involved with running a billion dollar business.

Tony would never fully remove himself from the running of Stark Industries; the name alone was still a connection to himself. But his father had built the business up and while Tony had in fact handed it over to an outsider, it had been on a clean conscious as Pepper was clearly the best woman for the job. He went down to the new headquarters ever now and then, just to make sure things were okay and to be updated on any issues. He still had a lot of involvement, just not so much on paper.

Bruce had assured Tony that Natasha was well out of her critical stage, she had been completely stable for almost a full day and it would take some kind of morbid miracle for her health to drop back into a worrying level again. She wasn't out of the woods yet, apparently she would be incredibly weak when she did wake up, but everybody knew how tough Natasha was.

Stark Industries was branching out more and the main idea had been along the lines of Stark tower being used for mostly SHIELD integrated business, so Pepper had been working out of the new location that would focus on any work not involving cheating lying spies. The new headquarters was only about a third of the size of Stark Tower, but it was growing fast. While it still held high levels of security, which was governed over by Tony's previous bodyguard, the building had a far more open and inviting appeal. Everything Tony had hated about Stark Tower. There were so many windows that the sun reflected and shined daily, giving the whole building a slight look of diamond coated. Frankly it was a sign of how much money the company made.

At Bruce's constant insistence, Tony had showered and shaved, had a decent sized meal and left Natasha's side after a time that would have been considered mentally unhealthy. He still appeared worn down and since his plan was to visit Pepper, there would be no way to hide that fact. She had known him far too long to fool for any of his composed appearances.

Pepper hadn't needed him for much, but she had been trying to get him down to her office for a few days and Tony decided it would be a good time to go. Bruce didn't think Natasha would wake up for a while, although he did admit that he couldn't be entirely sure because of how much she always burned through any anaesthesia or anything else he tried to put in her system. She was strong that one, she may have been a female in a team of males, but she could hold her own completely and no one doubted that.

Tony arrived at Pepper's office and sighed all the documents that she needed him to, sitting down for a quick catch up as per usual. It wasn't a gossiping session; Pepper would fill him in on all the potential business partnerships that she had turned down, asking for his advice. 98 percent of the time he would agree that she made the right decision. But the whole time she was talking, Tony was completely distracted. His eyes fell upon his own hand as his fingers drummed lightly across Pepper's mahogany desk, focusing on the patient he had left behind in the medical wing.

His former assistant was explaining about an old acquaintance of hers that had pitched a marvelling presentation regarding manipulation of certain centres of the brain, but she had turned it down because of how easily she believed it could have been weaponized. But of course Tony wasn't paying any attention, no matter how important the technology seemed.

"He didn't actually say it, but he might as well have spoken about how easily it would be to control people." Pepper sighed, clasping her hands together on the desk in front of her. Tony nodded in response, having no idea what he was actually responding to. "Tony, are you even listening to me?" Peppers voice was dull and unsurprised, as though a parent having to scold a child for something bad they had done far too many times.

"Not really." He admitted, stroking his facial hair that had been trimmed only recently. "I'm going to head off, good talking to you Peps." He gave her another nod, one out of common courtesy. She smiled as he stood, but it was more of a polite business smile and laced with perhaps just a little concern, though she didn't say anything and Tony was thankful of it. He didn't want to have to explain how afraid he was that he had almost lost Natasha. He waved his hand in her direction as a way of saying goodbye and left her large office, heading back to the tower as fast as he could. He wanted to remind himself that Natasha was okay, that she hadn't been killed before he could get to her, even though that was the main plotline of his nightmares –if he could actually get any sleep.

He hadn't been out of the medical ward for more than two or three hours at the most, he wasn't exactly keeping track of the time, too preoccupied with his thoughts. He would have assumed Bruce would message him if anything changed with Natasha's state, but the moment that he stepped out of the elevator into the medical floor, a series of banging and crashing reached his ears, along with Bruce's voice speaking with urgency and Tony just knew that Natasha was awake.

He was furious with himself as he broke into a run and hurtled down the hallway, skidding slightly at the end as he rounded the corner and caught himself with a tight grip on the door frame of Bruce's lab. It was no secret that Tony was a supremely intelligent man, which mean he could work things out at lightning speed and it took one sweep of his lusciously brown eyes across the room to discover what was happening within the confines of the walls around them. Bruce was advancing towards Natasha, though it was slowly and his expression showed no threat, his body was clearly willing her too remain calm, inching forward, hands raised in defence.

The assassin herself was across the other side of the lab, holding herself up with shaking hands propped on one of the side work benches, her wary gazed fixed on Bruce as though her life depended on it. There was blood splattered across her arms and along the front of her crisp white medical gown, Tony assumed it had been splashed there when she no doubt yanked the needles out of her arms and upended any of the machines connected to her, which had toppled to smash across the floor, explaining the noises Tony had heard when he got out of the elevator. There was no fear on her face, her eyes were not widened in panic and while she was still deathly pale, Tony attributed that to her low health, which was clear in the way she was shaking, again not from fair, more likely her exhaustion.

She looked like a wild animal that had been backed into a corner but was about to lash out into some kind of violent frenzy.

Natasha didn't seem to notice Tony at all, her eyes were locked onto Bruce so intently, her caution of his so strong. Tony took a step forward, not even sure what he was about to do. He didn't want to startle Natasha and he certainly didn't want to be on the receiving end of an assassins attack. But his minute movement seemed to draw her attention and he bright eyes flicked towards him, recognition filling them. It was less than a second later that her legs seemed to give out on her completely and she crumpled to the ground in a shaking heap. Tony didn't even think, he bolted across the room and dropped beside her, showing no hesitation before he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her close, letting her catch her breath.

She didn't fight him off, she didn't try and scramble away, Tony could only hope that some kind of trust was still evident in her mind and that she didn't view him as a threat. She was shaking worse than before, but he knew somehow that it wasn't from fear and he truly believe she wasn't crying. It was like her body wasn't read to be up and moving around, but her mind was forcing it to. That was Natasha in a nutshell, to stubborn to back down when the odds were against her.

Tony kept one arm around her and used his free had to gently lift her head up, brushing away a thick mass of red curls that had less vibrancy than usual. "Hey, Natasha, hey it's alright. Come on, look at me Tash." He cupped her cheek and tilted her face up, meeting her eyes. He was able to put into words how overwhelmed he was just at the fact that she was awake, even if she still wasn't at one hundred percent. Natasha was strong and he believed she would gain that strength back in no time. Her eyes were bright, but still duller than usual, she could see him but she seemed to be having trouble focusing on him.

"Tony…" Her voice was weak, painfully weak as she reached out a gentle hand that gripped his forearm and the expression that cross her face as she touched him was nothing short of reverence. It stemmed from the point of contact, as if she had every reason to believe she was merely hallucinating his presence.

She was still clearly exhausted, barely able to speak, not eve able to stand, but a small smile slid across his lips, just thrilled that she was alive. It had come so close, he had almost lost her.

"Who else would it be?" He grinned, pressing his forehead against hers gently, feeling her fingertips clutch at the sleeve of his shirt, a shaky breath escaping her throat. She murmured his name again, seeming just as glad to see him as he was too see her, a notion that warmed Tony's heart more effectively than the most expensive whisky ever could.

When she seemed to have calmed down significantly, he held her tighter with his supportive arm and slid the other under her knees, hoisting her up as he slowly stood, leaning her against his chest. He looked down and saw her eyes closing, her breathing becoming more even, but still worryingly strained. She either fell asleep or simply passed out, but no matter which option it was, Tony was just glad she was getting some more rest, even if it was against her will.

Tony turned toward Bruce, who had stayed back and allowed the billionaire to calm down the frantic assassin, a feat still shocking both of the men. Tony's heart was racing so hard he could have sworn it was causing the arc reactor to shine so much more brightly through his shirt than normal.

"What happened?" Tony asked quietly, after a moment of simply staring at Bruce, waiting for the doctor to explain the reason behind what had occurred. He was torn between thanking the doctor for how much he had cared for the woman Tony had fallen in love with, or yelling at him for whatever he had done to Natasha to cause that kind of reaction in her.

"Nothing happened." Bruce said calmly, waving his arm lightly toward one of the other beds in the room, one that didn't have smashed machinery littering the floor around it. Tony paused a moment before complying, moving to the bed indicated and gently laying Natasha down over the covers, noticing rather proudly, that her hand was still clutching his sleeve tightly. Even in slumber she didn't want to release her hold on him. So Tony stayed close, slipping his hand under her tightly grasping fingers, his other hand brushing a stray lock of crimson hair away from her forehead. Bruce appeared beside him a moment later, quickly sticking a needle into Natasha's left arm. She stirred, let out the tiniest of groans, but didn't wake. Though he hand did tighten its grip on Tony's.

"She woke up about an hour after you left." Bruce explained quietly, so as not to wake the sleeping Russian. "She was confused and cried out in another language, I'm assuming it was her mother tongue but I have no clue. I gave her a sedative that should have knocked her out for at least six hours, but she was awake less than two hours later. She burns through everything so damn fast. I blame Red Room for that. The amount of stuff they pumped into her may have made her stronger, but it also created the worse patient in history." He pulled the plunger out and dabbed at the dot of blood that welled up on Natasha's arm. Bruce looked up at Tony who had been watching the doctor intently. "If she waked again, try to keep her calm. Her body doesn't have any energy to exert. I'm going to analyse her blood. Stay close."

Tony found it odd for Bruce to make such a comment after he had been nagging Tony to leave ad get some decent rest, but it was good since he wasn't going anywhere. He was going to wait by Natasha's side until she ordered him to leave, clearly his presence soothed her. Bruce flicked his gaze between Tony and Natasha for a moment, simply watching them closely before he turned and headed into his office, no doubt to analyse Natasha's blood.

It may have been pathetically cheesy, but Tony didn't want to let go of her hand to grab his previous chair, which looked like it had been kicked over anyway. He made one attempt before Natasha gripped his hand tightly in her sleep and then he decided against it, choosing instead to climb into the bed and lay beside her. She was so peaceful when she slept, even though her breathing was not yet strain free and she would twitch involuntarily every now and then. But compared to when she was awake, it was unbelievably serene.

He wouldn't tell her how he felt, not while she was still recovering. It would be selfish of him, to relay the depth of his feelings to a woman who was almost as allergic to her own emotions as he was to his. Instead he would be there for her, give her whatever she needed. So many had abandoned her, Tony would not join that list. He lay on his side, one arm draped over her and holding her hand down by her hip.

It was so strange to feel such a need to protect her, even though she didn't need protecting. True she had just almost died, but even when he thought of that incident, it didn't make her seem weak. In fact it showed just how strong she was, considering how badly her enemies had tried to kill her.

"It will be alright Tash. Don't worry." He murmured, "I'm here for you." He kissed her forehead softly before tucking his chin in the crook of her neck, feeling that renewed hope that his presence was calming her.

* * *

Natasha awoke slowly, her body shifting and stretching before her mind had even really focused on her state becoming conscious. She opened her eyes slowly, feeling so very tired as she blinked away the glare of the medical lights above her. She was trying to remember what had happened; she could recall waking up and…. And Bruce had tried to take a blood test, yes that was right. Then what? Then Tony… She remembered seeing Tony and knowing somehow that she was safe, that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her. Then… just sort of nothing.

She stretched again and realized there was something warm draped over her, she looked down to find an arm resting across her chest and a gentle hand tucked into hers.

"Morning gorgeous." Tony's voice reached her ears and she looked to the side, seeing Tony grinning at her, face only inches away. He looked tired, he seemed to have shaven recently, but there were lines across his face that showed a lack of sleep. Were those lines caused by worry over her? She couldn't dare to hope so, to believe that anybody worried over her was a little ridiculous.

"Hi." She smiled softly, but the act did hurt a little. It hurt to do anything. If she could just lay as still as possible and not move a single muscle then that would be absolutely fantastic.

Not even a second after the thought had crossed her mind, Tony suddenly gripped her cheek and leaned in to kiss her without restraint, a desperate hopeful kiss the conveyed more emotion that either of them were even prepared to verbally discuss. "I thought I was going to lose you." He whispered, pulling away from her lips and pressing his forehead to hers. Natasha was a little shocked by the kiss and the words, not to mention rather flustered.

"How close was it?" She asked softly, not entirely sure whether she wanted to comment on the kiss or not.

"Too close." He murmured, moving back a little so their eyes could meet. "Don't do that to me again Tash, please." His eyes were deadly serious, he was looking for a promise from her, but she knew that as much as she wished she could promise such a thing, there was a good chance she would break it.


End file.
